


A Pattern Of Errors

by coloursflyaway



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Frottage, Getting Together, Holding Hands, M/M, Pining, Road Trips, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-09-25 16:44:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 34,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9830252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coloursflyaway/pseuds/coloursflyaway
Summary: Dirk picks Todd up for a road trip he never planned to go on, with a red cabriolet and a bright smile and a thousand places to go.And although Todd doesn't know what he expected, he definitely gets more than he bargained for.





	1. Chapter 1

It must be the car, Todd decides. It _definitely_ must be the car that makes his heart skip a beat when he walks out of the door and sees Dirk. A Jaguar cabriolet, sleek and bright red, the kind of car young boys like Todd dream about when not listening in maths classes.  
How Dirk got it, he has no idea, but his friend – his best friend, Todd thinks – sits in the car like he has owned it for years, waving at Todd with a bright smile on his lips. His hair looks almost red with the early sunlight bouncing off it, his cheeks and lips pink and his eyes blue and sparkling.  
“Good morning”, the other greets and Todd cannot say a thing for at least four and a half seconds. It’s ridiculous and he knows it, because he has seen Dirk a thousand times before and will see him a million times afterwards, but right now, it’s a little bit like meeting him anew.

“Hey”, he finally replies, even if far too late, waves a little bit, which feels as weird and out of place as it most likely looks. “What are you doing here?”  
“Picking you up, obviously”, Dirk replies like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like they made plans months ago. “Get in, we have somewhere to be.”  
“Where?”, Todd asks, and it must be the car distracting him again, the way it gleams, because by now he should know the answer.  
And it comes, the answer he should know, delivered with a grin that is both mischievous and excited.  
“Everywhere, Todd.”

 

The seats are covered in the softest leather Todd has ever felt and although he thinks he should be at least slightly annoyed at the situation, he can’t help but run his hand over the side of his seat again and again. Because it’s Dirk, the roof of the cabriolet is wide open although the wind is cold and harsh against Todd’s skin, making his eyes water, but because it’s Dirk, Todd doesn’t say a thing, maybe because it’d be useless anyway, maybe because the man beside him looks genuinely happy.  
And really, wouldn’t it be a waste to drive a cabriolet and close the roof anyway?

 

“Dirk”, Todd all but yells to be heard over the wind, the slight concern definitely audible in his voce anyway. “You are aware that we are leaving Seattle, aren’t you?”  
“Yes, of course”, Dirk answers, grinning madly, like there is nothing better, nothing more wonderful than leaving this city behind. “Todd, there is a whole world out there, waiting just for us! I know that Seattle is your home, your turf, so to say, but there is so much more to see and experience and possibly, probably be hurt by, or hurt with.”  
“Hurt by. Or with.”  
“Well, I am just being realistic, Todd, and after evaluating the past events I have come to the conclusion that not being hurt by anything in whatever is to come is highly unrealistic.” Dirk is thankfully looking at the road and not Todd, even if the grin still hasn’t left his face. Todd wishes that the other’s deductions weren’t quite so on point.  
And yet, although it was Dirk who was hurt the most of all of them, he doesn’t seem fazed by it, at least not visibly so.

Todd uses a moment of this sunny, if cool morning to wonder if Dirk wakes up from nightmares too sometimes, shaking and sweating and breathing so heavily he feels like he’s about to pass out.

“I am not happy with that train of thought”, Todd informs the other, not because he thinks that Dirk will actually care, but because he wants to be able to think that he did everything he could.  
“Oh, nor am I!”, Dirk exclaims, swerves right so he won’t completely demolish a teenager on a moped crazy enough not to immediately flee when seeing Dirk behind a steering wheel. “But sometimes – most of the times, actually – the universe doesn’t really care about that much. You should really know that by now.”

And Dirk is right, he should. He does, in fact, and tells Dirk as much, who laughs in a way that most definitely makes him even more of a hazard for anyone around them, with his head thrown back and his eyes closed. There’s a moment or two in which Todd is fairly certain they are going to die, but without the fear he is used to feeling at that thought, more like a faint sense of worry.  
Maybe because the wind whipping into his face, leaving his cheeks burning and distracting him horribly, or maybe it’s because Dirk looks happy, truly happy, from head to toe and the tips of his eyelashes and suddenly, Todd is, too.

 

They have lunch at some shabby, run-down restaurant at the side of a highway Dirk seemed to pick at random. There are torn vinyl-covered seats and questionable stains on the menu, which is useless anyway, because every single thing Todd tries to order is sold-out; Dirk’s chosen meal – a chocolate milkshake with extra whipped cream and the largest slice of apple pie Todd has ever seen – is in stock, of course it is.  
Todd sighs, looks up at the bored waitress, and orders apple pie as well, but with black coffee to go along with it, which the restaurant at least has to offer. When it comes, the coffee is watery and tastes a bit like it’s been waiting for someone to buy a cup of it for at least twenty-four hours, but Dirk’s milkshake is thick and sweet, makes the other hum happily to himself and smudges a bit of cream across the corner of his mouth.  
The pie at least is quite nice, sweet and tasting vaguely of cinnamon and warm evenings spent in front of a fireplace.

“So, when are we going to find a case?”, Todd asks around a forkful of pie and watches as Dirk licks cream off his straw just to push it back into his shake a second later.  
“I don’t know. Are you in a hurry? Because I am not and this is a nice day for not-detecting”, Dirk answers, frowning a little bit at his straw. It’s an unusual thing to say for the other, almost enough to worry Todd. “The case will come to us when it’s meant to, just like it always does.”  
“…alright, if you say so.” Todd takes another bite of his pie and decides to drop it; if Dirk doesn’t want to talk to it, then he won’t. It makes him realise just how much he doesn’t know about the other, the man he has somehow started to think of as his best friend after all, about Dirk’s past and even the present, really.

“That I absolutely do”, Dirk replies with confidence, more than anyone should possess, let alone someone wearing a brilliantly blue leather jacket and coiffed hair that would make a 50s greaser proud. “I say so. And now enjoy your terrible-tasting, far too bitter, absolutely disgusting disgrace of a drink, Todd.”  
He sits back and Todd thinks he should feel at least slightly insulted, but decides against it, after all it’s Dirk and Dirk hardly ever means to offend. Instead, he does what he is told, leans back too and takes a sip of his coffee, enjoys that it’s bitter, if vile in any other way.  
They sit in silence, which is unusual and a little bit wonderful, which isn’t.

 

“You know, Todd”, Dirk starts when they are _somewhere_ , going _somewhere_ , at _some_ time when the sun is slowly setting. The other’s hands are mercifully still on the steering wheel, where they belong, although Todd has found that Dirk doesn’t always drive like a complete lunatic since they started this weird kind of trip. “There is something which… baffles me, I suppose. About you. Or the world, really, I can’t quite tell one from the other.”  
“Yeah? What is it?”  
Todd is shifts until he can look at Dirk more comfortably, leaning back against the window.  
“You know that the universe leads me where I need to be”, Dirk says, but doesn’t give Todd time to answer. “But in the past, there have been times when I didn’t have any cases for weeks. Months, even. Other times, I rushed from clue to clue and hardly had time to breathe in between. And I – well, I didn’t hate it, I don’t think I hate anything, but I didn’t enjoy it much. At all. It was too much or too little, but there was nothing I could do against it. And yet we solved six cases by now –“  
“Four.”  
“- as I was saying, and haven’t had any for three weeks now, but I feel fine. More than that, even, I feel perfect, and the only difference is you. So, Todd, what is it that you change?”

It’s no question he is prepared to answer, not even one he would ever have expected Dirk to ask, so although the other looks over at him expectedly, he opens his mouth and closes it again twice, swallows, sits up straighter.  
“I… don’t know?”, he finally offers as a reply, even if a weak one. “Do I do anything?”  
“Well, _obviously_ ”, Dirk tells him like it’s him who’s offended now. “You’re my assistant, Todd. Why would I have ever made you that if you didn’t do anything?”  
“Dirk…” Todd sighs, and only knows what it is he wants to say when the words tumble from his lips. “I’m not your assistant. I’m your friend.”

The smile on Dirk’s face is bright enough it could power more cities than Edgar Spring’s unlimited energy device.

 

They stop at a motel long after the sun has set, when Todd’s eyes have long since grown tired and even Dirk’s chatter about some adventure he had long before they met has died down. The other looks sleepy, soft, and Todd catches himself thinking that he could get used to this version of Dirk just like he got used to the bright, enthusiastic one he first met.  
He’s still not quite sure why he is here, why they are here, but that’s something they can discuss tomorrow, or not at all.

“Oh thank God”, Todd mutters as he finally gets out of the car, stretching and hoping to somehow work the crick out of his neck, get his blood to flow properly again. It’s been too long since they last stopped for gas and a cup of coffee, although the time spent in the car passed far more quickly than he would ever have thought; maybe it’s because it’s been long enough that he has gotten out of Seattle that looking out of the window had felt like discovering the country around him for the very first time, maybe because spending time with Dirk has become something he actively looks forward to instead of just accepts.  
“Wanna stop for the night?”, he asks the other once he has heard the tell-tale click of the car door opening and closing again. He doesn’t turn to look at Dirk, not yet, because he has done so long enough during those past hours that he is fairly certain he could still count the impossibly light freckles on Dirk’s nose and cheeks if he concentrated and closed his eyes.  
But the street in front of him, the surprisingly nice looking motel, the night sky from this very perspective, he has never seen any of it before.

“Yes, please”, Dirk answers somewhere behind him, his voice smooth and familiar, although the British lilt that always clings to it makes it stand out wherever he goes. He wonders, for half a moment, if Dirk ever notices it. “Absolutely.”  
Todd takes another moment to breathe until he finally turns on his heel, expecting to see Dirk walking towards the motel already, but instead finding his best friend looking at him, a gentle, engrossed expression hidden somewhere behind his eyes, in the curve of his lips.  
Whatever words might have been waiting to be said die right there on the tip of Todd’s tongue, in the middle of a battered motel’s parking lot.  
He’s not breathless, far from it, maybe it’s the first time he breathes properly in years, and Dirk smiles at him like he knows.

 

Their room is small, the red wallpaper peeling and revealing the plaster behind it, the lamp flickering dangerously when Dirk turns it on before it decides to continue working, undefinable stains on the pillow cases that Todd decides not to think about for too long. But it’s got two beds crammed into it, and Todd’s heart is still pumping an unfamiliar warmth through his veins, treacherously sweet and subtle.  
Dirk busies himself with the duffle bag he brought with him while Todd sits down on the bed closer to the door, shucks off his jacket and lets himself fall back onto the mattress. It’s hard and lumpy, but right now, he couldn’t care less.

“You know, Todd”, Dirk says just when his eyelids have started drooping, his body preparing for sleep. “When I came here, to America, I always wanted to do this. A road trip, like in the movies, just take a car and a friend and see the country. It seemed so exotic, all of this, with your missing _u_ s, the ridiculous sizes everything comes in, the long, unwinding roads. I couldn’t ever do it, of course, but it was a nice thing to dream about back then.”  
Todd is vaguely aware that he should most likely sit up and look at Dirk, whose voice sounds softer and more contemplative than it usually does, but he can’t quite bring his body to do so. And it’s only a few moments after Dirk has stopped talking that the second bed creaks under the other man’s weight, and suddenly it doesn’t seem to matter anymore.  
“Why couldn’t you?”, he asks the various cracks in the ceiling and listens to Dirk shift on his bed.

There is no answer for a long time, until Todd is certain that Dirk has fallen asleep already, but then the bed creaks again, and Dirk speaks. He sounds unlike ever before, wistful and quiet and maybe a little bit sad; somehow, his voice suits the night around them.  
“Because I couldn’t leave. I wasn’t… Dirk back then, and although I wanted to, they wouldn’t have let me go. Or rather, they didn’t. I asked, several times, over several years, but the only thing they allowed was the occasional trip to a city. Once a beach. And then afterwards, well. It wouldn’t have been like in the movies on my own.”

Todd doesn’t have to ask who _they_ are, even if Dirk hardly ever talks about Blackwing, or his time with them, and Todd understands why: sometimes, it’s easier to keep the past locked away and hope it will lose its power over you.  
And there is nothing Todd can say to help a wound heal that Dirk sustained long before they met, hardly anything to soothe the one he knows Farah and Amanda and he managed to stitch up, however clumsily.  
“You’ve got me now”, he says anyway, because it’s easier to speak when he’s addressing the ceiling,  
and because it’s the truth.  
A few seconds pass, both of them breathing and thinking and listening; when Dirk finally answers, there is a smile audible in his voice.  
“I know.”

 

Sunlight trickles through the dirty windows and turns the red wallpaper an even more garish shade, almost stinging in Todd’s eyes when he opens them. It must be morning, and yet he feels disoriented, partly because this is not the flat he has gotten so used to waking up in, partly because it feels like years have passed, since he last slept this soundly.  
His back still aches when he sits up, bones seemingly having to realign beneath his skin and flesh after spending a night on this mattress. When he looks over, Dirk is still fast asleep, curled up on one side in a way that makes him look smaller, more vulnerable, like it wouldn’t take much to break him into pieces.  
Todd suspects that might be true.

He allows a few seconds to pass in silence, peace, before he gets up, suppressing the groan that bubbles up in his chest so he won’t wake Dirk up. It’s nothing more than a hunch, but Todd suspects that his best friend might not have gotten much sleep lately either.  
Since he didn’t have the time to gather literally anything he would actually need on a trip, neither clothes nor toiletries, he pushes a piece of chewing gum into his mouth and hopes that his clothes don’t smell too badly yet as he tiptoes through the room, opens the door and thanks the universe for letting it open almost soundlessly.  
Maybe he’s not the only one concerned about Dirk Gently after all.

 

One wrong move and Todd spills coffee all over his hand, curses and promptly stumbles over the threshold. The door opens easily, which is definitely not what he expected, and Todd is met with the sight of Dirk tying a bright red tie around his neck and the collar of his pastel yellow shirt.  
Anyone else would look ridiculous in it, but Todd knows that the universe will bend over backwards later to make it work on Dirk. It always does.  
“Oh, good morning, Todd”, the other greets even before he even has turned to look at him, like he knew Todd would come in before Todd knew it himself, then spins around with a bright grin on his face. There is nothing left of the wistfulness he wore the night before, but Todd didn’t expect to find anything of it now, the time isn’t right for it anymore.

“Morning”, he replies, puts down both the cups. “I didn’t think you’d be up already. Brought us coffee – or rather, I brought me coffee, and you what is probably going to be a horrible hot chocolate. I watched them make it and it was… unfortunate.”  
Dirk looks vaguely interested, but not really put off, tilts his head as his fingers continue pulling the silken tie through the knot he just tied; the smile is still in place.  
“I am sure it will be fine”, Dirk tells him reassuringly, grabs the cup from the desk Todd placed it on and a sip.  
It takes a moment for the changes in his face to get noticeable, Dirk’s eyebrows drawing together, his easy, playful happiness vanishing to make way for horrified disgust.

He doesn’t spit it out, but Todd is fairly certain it’s a close thing, judging by the look on Dirk’s face.  
“What on Earth is this?”, Dirk asks, stares at the cup like it personally offended him. Knowing Dirk, it might have.  
“They said it was hot chocolate, but well. I am not quite sure what it actually is”, Todd replies, offers an apologetic half-smile. “Wanna get out of here to find somewhere else to eat?”  
And suddenly Dirk is Dirk again, all smiles and brightness, a ray of sunlight having been given a human body to grace the Earth.  
“Oh yes. I would like that very, _very_ much.”

 

They find a diner, of course they do, Dirk has a milkshake and more pie, Todd enough coffee to make his fingertips tingle; the sun is shining and Dirk smiles and Todd doesn’t even think about it before he smiles back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I add another chapter?   
> Yes.   
> Because I am that bad at planning. I am sorry. 
> 
>  
> 
> Also shout-out to nekosmuse, who I absolutely forgot to mention last time (because I am bad at that too), but who helped me SO MUCH when coming up with the excuse for a plot that I am using for this.   
> (lbr, there is no plot, there are just excuses for me to have them touch and be cute together.)

 

Four days pass and it feels like no time at all. They are making their way south, but not even closely in a sensible or even a comprehensible fashion. Dirk either changes directions at random or tells Todd too, usually ignoring highways or anything else that would get them where they are going a little faster. Not that Todd minds, he enjoys the small roads they take, the little towns they pass through, the people they meet and the seemingly endless trail of business cards Dirk leaves at each and every stop they make.

Before this, he considered them rather close, but this is different. This isn’t just Dirk chattering endlessly and Todd listening, occasionally throwing in a comment that makes the other smile or laugh or think, this is silence and it’s conversation, it’s eating together and it’s dragging Dirk through a Walmart to buy the cheapest clothes and toothbrushes and deodorants they can find.   
It’s not just spending a few hours but whole days together and finding out where they fit and where they clash, and surprisingly enough, finding out that the first option is the predominating one by far.   
It’s waking up and knowing someone is somewhere close to him, it’s the occasional, rare memory they share with each other, some good, some bad, most something in between.   
And it’s creating new ones, and it’s Dirk beside him, always there, and it’s Todd not minding it the slightest.

 

Breakfast consists of blueberry muffins and coffee out of more paper cups; they could stay, but Dirk seems even more enthusiastic than usual, basically bouncing up and down while they wait, like he cannot figure out what to do with his limbs.   
So Todd decides for both of them and drags Dirk outside before he can do more than hand the bemused owner of the diner two of his business cards and offer to find any and all run-away pets. He grasps the other man’s wrist; blue leather prevents their skin to touch, and yet his palm feels warmer than it should when he lets go again.

“-but Todd”, Dirk all but whines, and it sounds like it’s part of a sentence that started a minute ago; Todd doesn’t know if he did not hear it or if it’s just Dirk. “What if their pony runs away today and I can’t be reached under the first two numbers? Who will find it?”  
“Didn’t you say that the cases find you?”, Todd replies, slightly distracted as he unlocks the car door. “So if we are meant to find this pony, then they will reach you somehow. And anyway, I thought this was a road trip?”  
“Well yes”, Dirk admits, gets into the car and looks at Todd expectantly. “It is, but, you know. For later. Maybe. Or to… well, you see, in case that this – that spending time with me, without a case, that is, will start to bore you, then wouldn’t it be good to know that there is most likely a lost little pony somewhere in Wyoming, waiting to be found by us?”

It’s too many words in too little time for Todd to quite understand what Dirk is saying immediately, so a few seconds pass with Todd’s empty gaze and Dirk fidgeting, until all those sounds finally fit together to make up a message.   
“You mean – or rather, you think that I’ll grow sick of you?”, Todd asks to clarify, and Dirk nods, obviously anxious, and Todd can’t help but chuckle, which doesn’t seem to be the expected response, judging by Dirk’s confused expression.   
“Honestly, Dirk, I occasionally want to punch you, but after I have managed to deal with you for this long, I doubt that’s gonna change any time soon. Don’t worry. If you want to find a pony, that is fine, but for my sake? That’s not necessary. In fact, some more time without being hurt by, or with anything might do both of some good.”

 

Slowly, the car comes to a halt and Todd doesn’t get hunches like Dirk does, but thinks that this might be how the other feels like when he has them; an inexplicable urge to stop right here and get out, just see what is out there waiting for him. For them.   
“Is something wrong?”, Dirk asks, his voice rough with sleep and soft with left-behind dreams. He looks just like he sounds too when Todd turns his head, wide blue eyes blinking slowly, a pink tongue darting out to wet even pinker lips.  
“No, no, don’t worry”, Todd answers and keeps his voice low. “I just wanted to get out of the car a bit, walk around. Do you want to tag along?”

Dirk seems torn, seems to want everything at once, but finally shakes his head, leans back into his seat, eyes staying on Todd for a little bit longer.   
“Next time. But have fun.”  
With that, he buries his face in his jacket and it’s good that Dirk’s eyes are closed, because Todd cannot possibly put a name to the expression that creeps onto his face, only knows that the feeling accompanying it is warm and soft and wonderful.

He lingers for a few moments, just because he can, then gets out of the car at last and leaves Dirk behind. The air is cool against his skin when he closes the door behind him, crisp and clear, smells of damp earth and rotting plants, tart and fresh and clean.   
Over the treetops, the sun is setting and it’s just him out here, the world around Todd quiet apart from the wind making the leaves whisper above him, the ground beneath him crunching as he takes a step, another, another.   
Although they haven’t been away for that long, it almost feels a bit strange to be on his own, no Dirk next to him. Maybe it should scare him, Todd thinks as he steps over some shrubbery, feels the twigs tug at the too-wide shirt they bought, how quickly Dirk has carved a spot of his shape into Todd’s life.  
He never made it easy, Todd knows that, and yet, Dirk has somehow stuck with him, poked and pushed and prodded until Todd had given up and allowed him in, something that has never been easy for him and yet easier when it came to Dirk. Surprisingly easy, he thinks as he pushes aside a sapling, feels that strange warmth still tingling through his limbs when he remembers digging up parts of a time machine with the other man, spending nights in a borrowed truck, patching Dirk up with too-pink band-aids.

It’s a strange sensation, softer and more comfortable than he is used to, not quite but kind of drowning out the eternal undercurrent of guilt and the knowledge that he is not the person his sister, his parents, his friends would deserve. Of course it doesn’t change that all that is still true, that he should feel guilty and should know that he isn’t good enough, but it soothes the sting a little bit, makes it easier to bear.

The last few rays of sunlight trickle through the leaves, giving the forest around him another, almost otherworldly glow; a golden tint that would set Dirk’s hair aflame and cause his eyes to gleam blue and bright.   
Why it’s Dirk he thinks of, Todd doesn’t know and doesn’t want to think about; he bends down to pick up a pine cone from the mossy ground and stuffs it in his jacket. There is no reason to make this more complicated than it has to be.

 

When he comes back to the car, scratches red across his knuckles, the pine cone safe in his pocket, Dirk is still asleep. His hair is sticking up in every possible direction, his lips parted and his nose scrunched up slightly; Todd closes the door as softly and quietly as he possibly can.  
The warmth is still lingering just below his skin and Todd doesn’t smile, but it’s a close thing.   
And he could drive on, find them a motel somewhere, but the sun has set already and Dirk looks peaceful, the driver’s seat comfortable enough, so he doesn’t, just turns on the heating and settles back, closes his eyes, and falls asleep.

 

Waking up is a slow process, gradually drifting closer and closer to the surface of consciousness until his eyes finally blink open. It feels like he hasn’t moved the entire night, his neck stiff and his back aching, but Todd feels well rested and relaxed nonetheless.   
He stretches, turns and finds the passenger seat empty, no blue leather and no auburn hair and bright smile waiting for him. It’s a little disorienting to be alone, but the sensation doesn’t last for long.   
Dirk is sitting outside on the hood of the car, cross-legged, and Todd considers just trying to go to sleep again, but then decides against it. His muscles are protesting, but Todd unfurls them, makes them submit.

Something in his pocket is prodding his side, hard and unforgiving, the pine cone he picked up the night ago. It’s an ugly little thing, misshapen and dirty, but Todd places it behind the windshield anyway before he gets out of the car.

The door snaps shut, and yet Dirk doesn’t turn around, which is unusual; still Todd understands why within seconds. The sun must be rising somewhere, hidden behind the trees around them, and is painting the sky pink and lavender and cornflower-blue. It’s beautiful, and Todd ignores that the metal of the car is cold and wet with dew and hops onto the hood as well.  
When Dirk looks over at him, his eyes are ablaze; there is no smile on his full lips, but there doesn’t have to be, it’s shining out of his eyes instead.

Todd leans back on his hands and their fingertips touch.  
Neither of them pulls away.

 

They don’t speak until the sun has long since risen, birds chirping around them, and Todd’s stomach growls.   
“Hungry?”, Dirk asks, and Todd is thankful for it, because he isn’t certain if he ever would have managed to break the silence. There is something peaceful in it, even now, an easy camaraderie, or perhaps even more than that.  
“Oh God, yes”, he replies, though, and finds that it is so much easier.

Dirk watching him when he looks over, and there is a moment that passes and seems to stretch out forever, their eyes interlocked and their fingertips still touching. It’s not electricity sparking between them, the feeling less explosive and less fierce; it’s an understanding, things falling into place around them, between them, the universe changing to accommodate them.   
Something changes, and Todd can’t pinpoint it, just knows that when time goes on and sweeps that little bit of silence away with it, he feels light, calm, complete.   
And when he looks away, he thinks he can see the same sensation mirrored in Dirk’s face.

 

“You know where I always wanted to go?”, Todd says all of a sudden, surprising himself with the words.  He’s nibbling on a cookie, keeping his eyes on the street in front of them instead of looking over at Dirk. It’s the strangest thing, but it doesn’t seem important; ever since that half-second on the hood of their car, he can sense Dirk’s presence next to him, making it almost unnecessary to keep his eyes on the other.   
“Where?”  
“Death Valley”, Todd answers, leaning back into the seat. “I don’t know why I never did, I should have. I’m thirty-three years old and I wanted to go there since I was seven and yet never did.”

It’s something he hasn’t thought about in a long time, another regret he pushed away, and the feeling isn’t new but still anything but pleasant. There are too many opportunities he missed and too many things he might have done to make himself or someone around him happy, or at least happier, and yet didn’t.

“Since you were seven?”, Dirk asks, sounding curious and happy, just like he does so often. “Why’s that?”  
“My grandma, she had this friend when they were younger, a Greek girl, called Desdemona. Well, my grandma called her Dessy, but that’s beside the point. She married a rich guy, a few years older than her, who adored her and wanted to fulfil every wish she possibly could have. But Dessy didn’t want jewellery or a new house or a car, she just wanted to travel. So her husband bought them a caravan and they spent almost two years driving through the country, stopping whenever they wanted to and seeing, well. Everything, really. And ever so often, my grandma would find a postcard in her mailbox.”  
Todd can still remember the one photo his grandmother had kept of her friend, a plain woman with a long, dark braid hanging over her shoulder, wearing shorts and a blouse with polka dots on it. A man beside her, taller and older, one hand lightly resting on her arm, both of them standing in front of an old-fashioned caravan, mountains behind them and beaming smiles on their faces.

“She kept them all”, he continues eventually. “Put them on the kitchen door. And when Amanda and I visited, I would look at them for hours, imagining how it would be to see that much of the world. The one from Death Valley was always my favourite.”  
He expects some kind of response, a usual platitude about how nice a story this was, but there is nothing, at least no answer, until the car suddenly swerves so abruptly that Todd can’t quite keep himself from screaming.

“What the fuck?”, he asks, still half shouting, clutching at the soft leather seat, once his heart has calmed down enough Todd can be sure it won’t stop within the next few seconds.   
Dirk, on the other hand, seems perfectly calm, like he didn’t just turn the car around on the middle of the street at what felt like sixty miles an hour. He turns to look at Todd like he has absolutely no idea what caused his outburst, a slightly manic grin on his lips, and if his body wasn’t still half convinced he was going to die, Todd would most likely have to wonder why he thinks of the expression on Dirk’s face as charming.   
“We’re going to Death Valley, Todd”, Dirk tells him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and maybe to him, it is.

  


 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's up for more gratuitous touching and Death Valley?

He isn’t quite sure how Dirk knows where they are supposed to be going, if somehow Todd’s wish to watch the sun rise from Zabriskie Point convinced the universe to lead them south towards California, or if it’s just one of Dirk’s hidden talents. Whatever it is, though, it seems to be working, because the next stop they make is Salt Lake City.    
It’s another city Todd has never been in, and never particularly wanted to, but when Dirk guides their car through the traffic with some mixture of skill and sheer lunacy, he cannot deny that the scenery is beautiful.

The sun hasn’t yet set, but its light has gotten dim, causing the neon writings above supermarket entrances and illuminated windows to twinkle in the distance like their own, personal version of the night sky. Behind them, the mountains look impossibly tall, unconquerable, and Todd sinks further into his seat.   
They have been driving for hours with hardly any break, except for the occasional stop for gas and drinks and Todd taking pictures to send Amanda. But while their trip up until now has been laughing and telling stories and being free, directionless, Dirk drives with a singlemindedness Todd is not used to now. It’s as unusual as it is touching, and if their hands brush from time to time, Todd pretends not to notice.

 

The hotel they check into is by far the nicest one they had had so far, the carpet plush and the wallpaper in perfect condition. Todd almost feels guilty for stepping into the room, knowing that he spent the last night in a car and only brushed his teeth and showered in a truck stop diner.   
Dirk instead walks into the room like his family has owned it for centuries, duffle bag in one hand and a bag with take-out they got before in the other.   
He sets it down on the bed, calls dibs on the first shower, which Todd thinks is well deserved. After all, it was Dirk who did almost all the driving.

Deciding that the take-out can wait, he stretches out on the bed, still in his wrinkled, gross t-shirt and worn jeans, flicks on the TV and loses himself for a bit in whatever soap opera they are playing right now. And maybe he’s just too tired, or too used to the thought of Dirk next to him, but it takes several minutes until he notices that the bed is too big for one person, that there’s a second pillow next to the one his head is resting on.   
But what is even more surprising than the lack of a second bed for Dirk to occupy is that Todd cares.

After having been in a band for years, he is more than used to sharing beds and often with people he liked quite a lot less than Dirk; he shouldn’t be fazed by the thought of sleeping next to his best friend, surely. And yet, he can feel his face flush slightly, his skin tingling, like it is expecting to be touched.   
It’s ridiculous, _he_ is ridiculous, and yet when the door creaks open and Dirk pads into the room on bare feet, his treacherous, ridiculous heart skips a beat.

Dirk is wearing the Mexican Funeral shirt Todd gave him what feels like a decade ago, the only piece of clothing he apparently thought of bringing, his damp hair slicked back and looking darker than ever. His skin is still flushed from the hot water and Todd takes a deep breath that does nothing to calm him down and smiles.   
“Still haven’t gotten shot in that shirt, huh?”, he asks, watches as Dirk looks down on himself, brows furrowing like it takes him a moment to figure out what it is Todd is asking.

“Oh”, he finally replies. “Haha. Very funny. No. But you should know that of all people, you were present during almost all occasions I was shot.”  
He joins Todd on the bed, seemingly oblivious how close they are and how much closer they will continue to be, just snatches up the bag of take-out and produces various snacks from it, spreading them out on the blanket like preparing a little picnic.  
“We might make it to Death Valley tomorrow”, Dirk tells him and rips open a pack of Maltesers; how the other is so skinny when he constantly stuffs candy into his mouth, Todd has no idea.

“That would be nice”, Todd replies and takes the one single sandwich they bought. “But if it takes longer, I wouldn’t mind it either. This is nice too.”  
Dirk stops mid-motion, Malteser in his hand, and looks at Todd like he has just been given the most wonderful gift.   
“Yes”, he says eventually, smiling softly. “Yes, it is.”

 

When they go to bed, it’s far past one in the morning, and although his skin is still tingling, Todd finds that it’s easy to lie next to Dirk, to listen to his breathing and feel the faintest of glow of warmth from Dirk’s skin against his own.

 

Dirk looks peaceful when he’s asleep, Todd catches himself thinking. It’s early in the morning and Dirk is curled up next to him, hair falling into his face and his eyelashes fanned out over pale cheeks.   
He should sleep, but he doesn’t know how to, when it feels like every possible secret the universe could hold is written out in the freckles on the bridge of Dirk’s nose.

 

Compared to the mattress from the night before, the seats of the cabriolet feel uncomfortable, no matter how smooth the leather is. Still, it feels a little bit like home already when Dirk starts the car and pulls out of the parking space, although it hasn’t even been two weeks since Dirk picked him up from his flat without a warning.   
A single click and suddenly the car is filled with loud Korean pop, the kind Dirk loves, and although Todd still only considers it music in the vaguest sense of the word, the eye roll he gives is accompanied by a little smile.

 

“Is there anything you would like to see?”, Todd asks and watches the landscape pass them by. It’s easy to forget that Dirk is going far faster than he is allowed to when there are no cars around them to remind him of that fact. “Like me and Death Valley, I mean.”  
“Yes”, Dirk answers after a moment or two have passed, his voice gentle in that way Todd has only come to know in those past days. “But not here. Back in England, there is a town called Penzance, and if you go a bit further than that, you get to Land’s End. It’s a headland, the most westerly point of all of England, and I always wanted to just… stand there. Look out over the sea and know that although I can’t see anything, there is a whole world just ahead. I think it would be very peaceful, don’t you?”

Todd has expected something fancy, Carnival in Venice or the Northern Lights, not this. But it fits somehow, another puzzle piece revealed that makes up the man in front of him, not cheerful this time, but pensive, making Todd wonder what else he has yet to discover about Dirk.

“I’ll come with you”, he offers, adds, “If you want me to, I mean.”   
Dirk whips around with wide eyes that should stay fixed on the street, a smile blooming on his lips.   
“Really? You’d do that?”, Dirk asks and waits for Todd’s nod before he continues, “I would like that.”  
“Alright”, Todd replies and makes it sound easier than it is on purpose. “It’s a date, then.”

 

The air around them is slowly getting warmer around them, dryer, stings in Todd’s eyes, but feels a lot more pleasant against his cheeks when Dirk rolls down the roof to enjoy the sun that is burning down on them.   
He’s fairly certain that Dirk is still going far too fast, but by now, Todd is too used to the feeling to really mind it anymore; Dirk looks too carefree, too relaxed for him to want to change anything at all. Maybe this, Todd catches himself thinking, a thought as light as air and passing as quickly as the landscape around them, is what being content feels like.

 

Heat hits him like a punch to the chest when he gets out of the car. It was warm in the car, stiflingly so, and yet it was nothing compared to this. Todd knows warmth and yet has never felt anything like this before, a heat that feels all-encompassing, endless, unchanging, and yet not entirely unpleasant.   
They have stopped to load as much of the backseat as possible with water and food, and Todd turns to ask Dirk if there is anything else he needs when the words curl up somewhere in between his vocal cords and the tip of his tongue.   
It’s hot, impossibly so, which is why he shouldn’t be surprised by it, but somehow Dirk looks, acts like he is too far removed from the world to be fazed by something as mundane as the weather. Doesn’t look like he’d stand in the middle of a dusty parking lot, deft fingers undoing button after button of his shirt. The tie is still hanging around his neck, wrinkled and looking like an invitation of some sort, even if Todd has no idea how to accept it.

“I knew it was going to be hot here, but oh, boy”, Dirk comments, shoots a smile that looks as bright as the sun in Todd’s direction, whose eyes keep following long, slender fingers, a line right down the other man’s body. “You could have warned me, really, Todd. After all, you are the one who has lived his entire life here… at least _kind of_ here. In England, twenty-five degrees are considered a particularly warm day. This here, well. I don’t even know if there are words for it apart from very unpleasant ones like _hell_ , or _purgatory_ or _the actual inside of a volcano_.”  
It takes far too long for Todd to piece together what it is Dirk is saying, because the other shucks off his shirt so he can pull the undershirt over his head.

He’s thin, collarbones protruding and casting harsh shadows over pale skin, his shoulders looking even narrower without some kind of clothing covering them, and yet Todd cannot look away. Muscles bunch up and relax again under Dirk’s skin as he sets aside the undershirt, starts to put on the pastel yellow dress shirt on again, and Todd knows that Dirk isn’t beautiful in any traditional sense of the word – he’s too skinny, too pale, too gangly – but that doesn’t matter.   
Because there are faint scars on Dirk’s side, soon to be hidden by clothing again, an elegant curve to his neck when the other tilts his head, the cupid’s bow of his pink lips soft when he starts to button his shirt up once more. He’s not beautiful, but in some way that Todd cannot put to words, he’s magnetic, his movements hypnotic, the blue of his eyes electrifying.

Before he knows it, Todd has taken a step towards him, another, closing the distance between him and Dirk until he can reach out. His fingertips brush over Dirk’s collarbone, the skin warm and damp with sweat, before Todd gets a hold of a button, the corresponding side of Dirk’s shirt.  
It’s no conscious decision to do so, but his fingers make the decision for him, start with the first button before moving to the next; Dirk’s fingers brush over his chest as he drops his hands, leaving a trail of sparks even through the fabric, and Todd looks up and wonders what the other man can see in his face.

The expression Dirk wears is something between gentle surprise and fond amazement, one eyebrow raised ever so slightly. They are standing close together, closer than Todd would have thought possible, and ever so often, his fingers touch soft skin and light something up in Dirk’s eyes.  
“I don’t think it’s that bad”, Todd finally says, almost but not quite answers. Dirk’s shirt is almost buttoned up again, and Todd is glad that he can’t tear his gaze away from the other’s face, because otherwise he’d be forced to think about where his hands are currently at.   
“Yeah, well”, Dirk answers, a playful edge to the smile he wears; he tilts his head, baring his neck, and Todd swallows thickly. “If you put it like that, I think I’ll have to agree.”

 

How long it takes them to get the canisters of water, food and two thick blankets they actually stopped for, Todd has no idea; his fingertips tingle the entire time and make it hard to focus on anything else.

 

They leave with far too much water and far, far too much food for a single night, Dirk’s shirt sleeves rucked up carelessly and Todd’s eyes straying to his wrist, the tendons in the back of his hand moving delicately under his skin.   
Dirk seems to look back more often than not, their eyes meeting although the other’s should stay on the street, and it’s almost absurd how natural it feels.

There is no spoken agreement that they will just go on and see where the road takes them, but there doesn’t need to be; maybe Dirk has a hunch, maybe he knows Todd well enough that it’s not necessary to say everything out-loud anymore. That’s how it feels to Todd, at least.   
So they don’t take the road up to Zabriskie Point, but instead, with the sun setting, drive into Death Valley.

The last few hours, the landscape around them has dried up bit by bit, but this is different, this isn’t dead matter and grass turned the colour of sand, this is the absence of life altogether, or at least looks like it. And Todd cannot look away, glued to the windows to take in as much of this alien looking valley in the middle of nowhere, the cracked ground and salt residues glittering in what is left of the sunlight. The hills around them, that look like someone ripped them forcibly from the earth they belonged to and forced them to keep watch here, guard this dead, impossible place.

Why they stop, Todd cannot say and doesn’t ask, they just stop in the middle of nowhere, Dirk looking over at him with a question written all over his painfully familiar face.   
_Is this okay?_  
Todd doesn’t answer with more than a smile and gets out of the car.

It’s like he has never felt heat before, making him aware of every too-hot breath he takes, his sweat evaporating before it has started to bead on his forehead, the nape of his neck. It’s the kind of heat that makes you forget about ever feeling a gust of wind before, and Todd puts his head back and takes inhales the boiling air as deeply as he possibly can.

Behind him, Dirk must have gotten out of the car, because there is the click of a door being closed, footsteps that sound loud on this rough ground.   
“Is it like you thought it would be? Or is it a different kind of, I don’t know.  Moon-esque landscape situated in the middle of the world’s oven?  
Dirk breaks him out of his reverie easily, with a few choice voice, and Todd can’t help but chuckle, turn to look at the other.  
“I did underestimate the heat”, he admits, and Dirk scoffs. “But apart from that, yes, it’s what I expected. Just as…dead. And beautiful.”  
“That is a strange thing to find beautiful”, Dirk decides, but looks around anyway. “But I suppose you have a point. It’s a very hot and a very empty kind of appeal, but it is quite stunning.”

Todd wants to look at the dried up salt lakes in the distance, but his eyes won’t allow it, instead stay fixed on Dirk’s soft, fond smile and the patch of skin revealed by the buttons Todd didn’t fasten before.

 

They watch the sun set together, their blankets folded together to make an acceptable makeshift bed, at least for the time being. His back is going to kill him the next morning, but with the sky turning pink, turning violet, then blue, Todd cannot find it in him to care.  
Dirk passes him a bottle of water and Todd takes a long drink, does not think about the other’s lips touching the plastic only a few moments after his own, and sighs.   
“Dirk?”, he starts, keeps his eyes trained on the stars that are coming out, not slowly, like he is used to, but at an almost alarming pace, all at once.   
“Yes?”  
“Thank you.”  
“What for?”

Dirk sounds honestly confused, although Todd thinks that the other should know, shifts and shuffles next to him. Todd wants to look over, but doesn’t, too scared that he won’t be able to tear his eyes away anytime soon.   
“This, of course. All of it, the trip and coming here and looking at the stars with me. I wouldn’t be here without you showing up in that ridiculous car and…spiriting me away.” He smiles at the stars, and they twinkle back, getting brighter by the second.  
“In that case, you are very welcome”, Dirk tells him after a second has passed, and he sounds as genuine as he sounds happy.   
It’s a feeling Todd knows well by now.

 

The stars above them are bigger than anything Todd has ever seen before, so bright that it almost hurts a little bit to look at them; it’s a thought Todd would never admit to having, but it reminds him a bit of Dirk’s smile.   
Somewhere in between the sky turning from blue to black, their chatter has died down, no words known to Todd that could befit the situation, the feeling of being so small beneath so much light and space and beauty, next to another person, who understands.

Because Dirk does understand, something Todd would never have thought possible when he first met the other man, all wild eyes and frantic chatter, but there is more to Dirk Gently than just smiles and endless optimism, and all of it is still better, brighter, more beautiful than what lurks underneath Todd’s surface. And yet, Dirk is there with him, so far away from home, because of a postcard Todd used to look at when he visited his grandma’s house.

His heart flutters and beats and swells, and it’s hard to deny a feeling you could name so easily, should you want to, when it’s only been you and your thoughts and the stars for so long.

Next to him, Dirk moves, and Todd’s stomach clenches in anticipation, expects the other to speak but no words come. For a moment, he’s confused, but then something warm covers his hand, skin sliding against skin, bones and sinew and flesh finding a way to make itself fit around Todd’s hand.   
Their fingers intertwine easily, the callouses of Todd’s fingertips catching on the soft skin of Dirk’s knuckles, Dirk’s nails scratching across the back of the other’s hand; just a single point of contact between them, but enough to make the universe stop and think, it seems, and then carve a little niche out for them to fill with whatever this is going to be.

 

The stars above them are still bright and Dirk raises their hands, both of them, together, like they are a unit now, and points at a spot above them, that looks just like the rest of the night sky to Todd.   
“That’s Cassiopeia”, Dirk tells him, and it’s the first time they have spoken in what feels forever, “The brightest one, that’s Shedir, then there’s Caph, Ksora…”  
They still look the same, a million suns shining down on them, beautifully bright, and Todd lets his thoughts drift, listening more to Dirk’s familiar, British lilt than to the words he is saying, and watches their hands instead.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that I originally said that this was going to have four chapters, then five, but this got spectacularly out of hand so I just really don't know anymore.

 

Dawn breaks and wakes Todd up with the first rays of sunshine tickling him, soft and too bright. The air around them is still hot, but either he has gotten used to it, or the night has cooled even Death Valley down enough to make it bearable, because Todd takes a deep breath and doesn’t feel like he’s burning up from the inside.   
Dirk next to him is still asleep, curled up on his side, both his hands clasped around Todd’s, keeping it close to his face. During the night, Todd must have turned as well, probably to compliment the position Dirk is sleeping in, which makes it easy to watch the other man now, let his eyes trace the cupid’s bow of Dirk’s lips, the line of his jaw and the shadows the morning sun is painting across his cheekbones.   
Honey-coloured freckles are dusted across the bridge of Dirk’s nose, reminding Todd of the starry sky they fell asleep under the night before, his eyelashes are tipped with gold. It’s his feelings that paint the sight in front of him in the sweetest colours, Todd is aware of it, but that doesn’t change that Dirk seems like the most beautiful thing his eyes have ever seen.

The fingers wrapped around his own feel cool, feel right, and Todd is glad for them keeping him from reaching out and finding out if Dirk’s lips are as plush as they look like. He shifts, stills, then shifts again, and one, or some of those movements seem to be too much, because Dirk stirs in front of him, hands tightening around Todd’s.   
His eyes flutter open, blue shining brightly and growing soft when Dirk recognises Todd in front of him.

There can’t be more than a few inches between them, a fact that didn’t seem important up until this very moment, and yet suddenly is all Todd cannot think about.   
It feels like there is something he should say to diffuse the tension between them, because that is what he always does, and yet he holds his tongue. Maybe because Dirk is still holding his hand like it’s the most precious thing in the world, maybe because of the warmth that seems to have found a permanent home in his chest, or just because Todd still cannot look away from Dirk’s lips for more than a few moments.

Whatever the reason is, though, it lets every and any word die right on his lips, and Dirk stays just as silent, just watches Todd with slowly waking eyes. His fingers are coming to life around Todd’s hand, touching and stroking and feeling, like Dirk has to make sure that Todd is really, truly here.   
There is a question written in the curve of Dirk’s smile, and Todd doesn’t know how to answer until Dirk’s fingertip brushes along the length of his thumb, a light, tentative touch; one, Todd realises, he wants to feel again, and again, and again.   
And suddenly, it’s easy to reach out with his uncaptured hand, and do what he thought about before, trail fingertips over Dirk’s cheek, warm skin and a hint of stubble when his finger drifts down a little further than expected.

Dirk’s breath hitches, and it is all Todd needs; maybe all the both of them need. The other turns his head, presses the softest of kisses to his palm, and it’s just a touch, and yet makes Todd’s heart skip a beat or two.   
A spot of warmth lingers after Dirk has pulled away, a brand of some sort, and Todd feels his fingers curl, the tips just so pressing into the other’s cheek. It’s as if he could feel Dirk’s heartbeat through his skin, sense the thoughts hidden behind the blue of his eyes, and suddenly, it’s not enough to be close anymore, he needs to be closer still.

Their eyes meet, and there’s a connection that almost feels tangible between them, a silken thread that ties them together, and they move as if on cue, leaning in until they meet, lips touching.   
Todd’s hand is still on Dirk’s cheek, holding him close, and there are no fireworks going off behind his eyes when he lets them slip shut, the world doesn’t start spinning, only melts into insignificance.   
It’s a kiss, just a kiss, and nothing more, and yet it feels like the universe is falling into place.

Against his, Dirk’s lips feel softer than Todd would have thought, if chapped from the heat, move clumsily, but not as clumsily as Todd would have expected. And they feel nice, like they belong right where they are, kissing Todd with more care than he deserves, in the middle of nowhere.

 

“How do you know so much about stars?”, Todd asks while they sip their water under a sun that is growing hotter by the second, sharing molten chocolate bars and a packet of peanuts. Their hands are still intertwined, which making even the easiest tasks difficult and yet feeling too good to let go.  
They have kissed another few times in between that very first kiss and deciding to have breakfast, often enough that Todd has forgotten the exact number, and yet he can feel his lips tingling, longing for another kiss already. It feels like they should make up for all those moments they spent without touching.

Dirk stops for a moment, his free hand raised to stuff even more of a snickers bar into his mouth, quirks an eyebrow, like he never would have expected that question.   
“I was…”, he starts, eyebrows furrowing for a moment, like he isn’t quite certain how to end his sentence. “...a lonely child. The stars were there to keep me company.”  
It’s a sad thing to say even if Dirk hardly seems to notice it; his hand tightens around Todd’s nonetheless.   
“When I was twelve or thirteen, Colonel Riggins got me a book for my birthday called _Find the Constellations_. It was a little bit too simple for me, really, written for children a lot smaller - because, let’s face it, the Colonel was _bad_ with children - but I still spent hours with it, staring out at the sky.” He shrugs, and Todd wishes he could somehow change, well. Everything. “After some time, I could name most of the constellation, even without the book. I asked for another, but I never got it.”

The rest of the snickers disappears between pink lips, leaving smudges of chocolate, and Dirk looks entirely unfazed by all of this. It hurts Todd’s heart in unexpected ways; he wishes he could say something and yet cannot think of anything at all.   
There’s salt on his lips, and Dirk is still chewing, but Todd pulls on the other’s hand, makes Dirk yelp around his mouthful of candy and fall forward just enough for Todd to kiss him, sweet and soft and maybe even loving, a kiss not to excite but to reassure.   
Dirk tastes like chocolate and caramel and it takes a moment or two, then he melts into the kiss.

 

They drive up to Zabriskie point, and the sun is shining right out of Dirk’s face; Todd’s is more likely less pleased, because Dirk is navigating through traffic like he’s determined to kill them both on what might be the happiest day of Todd’s life.   
And yet they somehow make it up to the top, after they have traumatised at least a dozen families, couples and tourists. When he gets out of the car, the air is cool, at least compared to the heat of the valley, and Todd takes a deep breath, letting his eyes close for a few precious seconds to just feel.

There are a few people taking pictures and posing for them around the top, but Todd ignores them in favour of looking around once he has opened his eyes. Their surroundings are still harsh, sun-baked slopes and cracking grounds, and fingers slide between his own as Dirk joins him.   
“There is a young girl just over there”, Dirk tells him, sounding slightly alarmed. “Pretending to fall off a cliff while her mother stands there and takes pictures. Is this a regular occurrence here?”  
“Kind of. Wait ‘til we get to the Grand Canyon, there are people who die there because of stuff like that.”

“What?”   
Slight alarm has turned into fully-fledged agitation, and Todd turns away from the sight in front of him to look at Dirk instead.   
“Yeah, I know”, he answers, and squeezes Dirk’s fingers; the other’s expression relaxes almost immediately. He looks like he is contemplating something, like Todd has just given him a clue he cannot yet fit into the bigger picture.  
“But…”, Dirk finally says, after a few moments have passed, and sounds hopeful now, maybe a little bit shy. “Does that mean you want to go to the Grand Canyon? With me?”  
It’s an innocent question, nothing that should induce any kind of fluttering in Todd’s stomach, but there is another layer to it as well, it’s Dirk asking: _Do you want to go home?_   
“Definitely”, he tells Dirk and watches all nervousness drain out of the other’s face, quickly replaced by the usual happy excitement.

They share a kiss that might or might not draw a few scandalised gasps from the people around them, and then Dirk sets off, dragging Todd right after him.

 

It feels a bit like looking over the moon’s surface, Todd thinks to himself as he stands as close to the edge as he dares to; Dirk, of course, is standing closer.   
Folds of bedrock in dusty red and brown are spread out in front of them, looking like waves breaking against a beach, behind them, there’s the valley. Dried lakes of salt are gleaming in the sun, spots of polished silver on porous ground.

A woman to their left is whispering to her husband, pointing at their joined hands, and Todd steps a little closer to Dirk, who fortunately doesn’t seem to notice at all, blues eyes fixed on the view in front of them. His hair is a mess, unkempt and wild, and yet shines like polished mahogany, a colour that strangely befits their surroundings.   
“I don’t know how that postcard looked”, Dirk tells him, and Todd feels the sinews in his hand move, the muscles relax and tense. “But I understand why you wanted to come here after seeing it. It’s beautiful. Thank you for taking me.”  
Todd can’t help but chuckle, look over at the other man, who seems almost awed by the sight in front of him. “Dirk, I didn’t take you. _You_ took me.”  
“Oh well”, Dirk replies, and there is the gentlest smile on his lips, happiness shining out of his eyes. “Then thank you for letting me do that.”

 

It’s a few minutes after they have gotten back into the car that Todd has an idea, one that he thinks could change everything.   
“Dirk”, he starts, gripping the steering wheel a little bit harder; he insisted on driving this time. “How do you feel about going to Las Vegas?”

 

In sunlight, Las Vegas looks less like beacon of sin it is described as, just dusty, worn down, battered. There are drunk people passing as Todd parks the car, lipstick smeared around their mouths, beer bottles in their shaking hands, and although Todd is fairly certain he should feel grossed out, he feels elated.   
“Are we there yet?”, Dirk asks, a little groggily, as he straightens up. Somewhere on the 95th, Dirk had fallen asleep, occasionally mumbling about pots of petunias falling from the sky or the importance of always carrying a towel with you. It had been strangely endearing.   
“Yes. Well, I hope we are, we still have to check if they’ve got any rooms left.”

Dirk scrubs a hand over his face, yawns, then decides, “They will. If you have brought us here, then I am sure they will.”  
There is a pause that only lasts a second and then Dirk adds, sounding fond, but vaguely agitated, “And no, Todd. I am not psychic.”

 

When Todd pads back into the room, after a shower that felt better than it had any right to, he smells flowery, chemical somehow, water dripping from his freshly-washed hair and leaving his shirt wet.   
Dirk is already asleep on one of the beds, just as expected, not even stirring when Todd closes the door behind him, lips parted and cheeks still flushed.

There are two beds, and it is something Todd deeply regrets, although it’s his own fault: when the bored young man at the reception had asked him if he wanted a double or two singles, Todd had frozen up. It had been ridiculous, but somehow the question had felt like more than just that, not about beds, but about them, and Todd didn’t and still doesn’t have an answer.   
In the end, after a few moments, he had blurted out that they needed two, thank you very much, but even back then, it had felt like a mistake.

And it was just that, he sees that now, because there is a second bed waiting for him, although all Todd wants to do is to curl up next to Dirk and feel the warmth of the other’s body.  
He steps closer, just wanting to look at Dirk a little bit longer, before retreating to his own bed, but finds something else hidden in the position of the other man’s body, something peculiar and just maybe something meaningful.   
Dirk’s back is pressed against the wall behind him, his body twisted in a way that makes him occupy far less space than he usually would, almost like he is leaving some space for Todd to fill.   
There is a chance that he is misinterpreting it, that he is wrong like he is so very often, and he could wake the other up and ask, but it seems cruel to do so, when Dirk looks so peaceful, so content.   
And it’s not like Todd wants to, not when there is a chance that Dirk might say no.

Todd bites his lip, contemplating, but when it comes down to it, he’s still selfish, more so, maybe, than anything else, so he gets onto the mattress next to Dirk, and decides to think about it tomorrow instead.

The motion doesn’t wake the other, and Todd marvels at their closeness, at the fact that Dirk, who might not be easy or normal, but who is inherently good, would choose to force his way into Todd’s life, who is anything but that. It used to seem like a punishment, but by now feels more like a blessing, a reward he does not deserve.    
Todd reaches out, cannot help himself, and grasps Dirk’s hand in his, laces their fingers together.   
It takes a few moments, but Dirk’s eyes flutter open, something Todd can’t regret and yet makes his heart stop, at least for the few moments, before a smile steals onto the other’s lips, lazy and soft. Dirk squeezes his hand, and Todd’s heart starts to beat again, stronger now, and maybe a little bit for the man in front of him.

“You smell nice”, Dirk mumbles, and Todd loves the tone of his voice, the slightly hoarse quality of it, the stretched vowels.   
“Thanks”, he answers, and Dirk smiles, pulls a bit on Todd’s hand until he gets the hint and shuffles closer. “It’s orchids and magnolia flowers, if the shampoo bottle is to be believed.”  
“’s not”, Dirk replies, although it takes a few seconds, sounds sleepy, but determined. “You always smell nice. It’s you.”

His eyes flutter shut again, and his breath is warm against Todd’s skin, even when he feels his cheeks flush; for a second Todd thinks about an appropriate response, before he kisses the next breath of air right off Dirk’s lips instead.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, lady-mephistopheles over at Tumblr for the tranlations, and also for the thing with the hover boxes, which hold the translations for all the Polish text. Well. The few lines of Polish text.  
> Anyway.

  


He wakes up with a kiss, a soft pair of lips against his, warm breath washing over his cheeks, hair that is too long to be his tickling him. Todd scrunches up his nose, and Dirk chuckles; the lips return and place a kiss on his cheek, one on the tip of his nose.  
“You are aware that you have to wake up at some point, right?”, Dirk mutters and sounds amused. “I mean, I suppose you could stay in bed the whole day, or we could, but it’d be a shame when there is so much to see out there.”  
There are still a few layers of sleepiness that keep Todd from really being awake, and yet his brain picks up on the possibilities Dirk’s words seem to hold immediately, registers _stay in bed the whole day_ , registers _we_ , and finds, without much surprise, that he wants every and all implications hidden between those thoughts.

It makes opening his eyes a little easier, and he finds Dirk watching him, a happy smile on his lips and something like bliss sparking out of his eyes. He’s still not beautiful, but he doesn’t have to be, because Todd thinks, hopes, that Dirk is his.  
“Morning”, he mumbles, and watches a star be born behind each of Dirk’s eyes, making them shine even brighter. “Not quite sure about it being a shame to stay in bed, but here, I’m awake. I hope you’re happy now.”  
It seems to take a few moments for Dirk to understand what he means, but he does in the end, if the sudden pink dusting the other’s cheeks is any indication.  
“Well – I guess, I suppose we could do that too”, Dirk stutters out, eyes wide, the pink intensifying, and Todd has half a mind to find out how far down the other is blushing, but Dirk is right and there is so much to see outside, an impossible city in the middle of a desert waiting for them.

He leans in and kisses Dirk, ignores that neither of them has brushed their teeth yet, and instead focusses on how right it feels to do this, and yet how exciting.  
“Another time?”, he asks, and Dirk nods, quickly enough for Todd to know that the other is just as excited about the prospect as Todd is himself.

 

They leave the hotel far later than expected, distracted by kisses and more kisses, one story Dirk most definitely has to tell, although he is only wearing one shoe and his hair is still a mess.  
Not that Todd minds; it’s quite adorable.  
And they do manage after all, Dirk looking almost radiant in his Mexican Funeral shirt and the burgundy pants that are far too tight to be considered decent.  
“So, what do you want to see?”, Dirk asks, excited, his hands twitching at his side, like he doesn’t know what to do with them. Todd takes the hint and one of them in his own. “I’ve heard that there is a hotel that has Venice built inside of it. Well, not _actually_ Venice, of course, but something like it. Do you think they have fish in the canals there? I hope they do. Would fish be permitted in a casino? Would they have to wear formal wear? That would be quite a sight, wouldn’t it be?”

Dirk sounds like a kid in a candy store, excited and happy and maybe a little bit hyperactive, the hand Todd is holding jerking ever so often, like it still wants to gesture.  
“We can go there, sure. Even look for your tuxedo-wearing fishes, if you really want to”, Todd tells him, has the feeling that it’s just what Dirk wanted to hear. “But there’s something I want to try out with you. If you want to. Have you ever played Blackjack?”

 

They walk into the next casino, not the Venetian, although Dirk is still insistent on getting to see the fish, and it seems that everything, from the plants to the gaudy chandeliers, is a source of wonder to Dirk, who flits from one thing to the next, a hummingbird, who’s unable to settle.  
In the past, Todd would have rolled his eyes, sighed, but it’s like that one kiss changed everything for him, just like it must have for Dirk, making him smile instead, slip his hand in Dirk’s. Not to pull him away from the woman behind the counter who Dirk is currently interviewing about the fascinating history of this establishment, but to make sure that when Dirk leaves, the other will drag him along.

 

They blend in well with the masses gathered around roulette tables and one-armed bandits, Dirk with his sunny grin and Todd with the dark circles under his eyes.  
“You want something to drink?”, Todd asks, gestures towards the bar, although it’s still only around three in the afternoon. They’re in Vegas after all.  
He would like Dirk to accompany him, because nowadays he doesn’t ever want to leave the other man out of his eyes, but Dirk is looking around like he has stepped into some kind of electricity-powered heaven, and Todd doesn’t want to take this away from him.  
So he lets go of Dirk’s hand, says, “I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t try to get lost or anything.”

Dirk looks excited still and Todd gives him a smile before he sets out, leaves Dirk behind in favour of queuing up at the bar. Although it’s early, the scent of stale beer and overly sweet cocktails is permeating the air, something Todd is used to and reminds him that he has no idea what Dirk even likes to drink.  
The woman in front of him orders a dozen margaritas, the ivory-coloured veil in her hair on the verge of falling out, and because she sounds as excited and enthusiastic as Dirk does most of the time, Todd buys a beer for himself and a margarita for Dirk.

Behind the counter, the girl serving him is smiling with pink-painted lips, her hair hanging loose and in curls, framing her pretty face, and there is an edge in her smile that Todd hasn’t seen in quite some time. It’s not seductive, but definitely flirtatious, a coy look delivered through dark eyelashes, and Todd knows that a few months ago, his heart would have picked up its pace already.  
“So tell me, sweetie, is that cocktail for me?”, she drawls, pours the last shot of liquor into the mixer and shakes it in a somewhat suggestive manner. “Because if it is, I’m out of here in half an hour, if you wanna wait.”

She’s pretty, just his type, looks a little wild and a little sweet underneath that harder shell, but Todd thinks of a sunny smile and auburn hair, narrow shoulders, and shakes his head.  
“No, sorry”, he tells her; her smile hardly falters. “I’m here with someone.”

 

He finds Dirk close to where he left them, an older woman next to him, both of them talking animatedly, but Dirk pausing the second he sees Todd.  
It’s hard to navigate around the throngs of people, especially with the cocktail glass in his hand.  
“…zrobi się ”, he hears Dirk say, his voice sounding unlike he has ever heard it before, harsher and yet still melodious. ““Jeszcze raz dzięki. Trzymaj się! ”

He shakes the woman’s hand one last time before he turns to face Todd, walks two steps towards him, obviously not noticing the dumbfounded expression on his face.  
“Oh, Todd! That was faster than I expected, how nice! And what is that? It does look interesting.” Dirk proceeds to pick the margarita right out of Todd’s hand.  
“What…was that?”, Todd asks, watches Dirk sip his drink with a happy hum.  
“Oh, that was Agnes! I just met her, she is here with her husband and her dog. It’s a corgi, would you believe that? Anyway, she told me that we definitely should go and see that hotel, although apparently there are no fish inside the canals, neither with formal wear, nor without.”

“That is very nice of Agnes”, Todd replies, “But was that… Slovakian you were talking? Romanian?”  
“Polish, to be exact.”  
“You speak Polish?”  
“Amongst other things.” Dirk looks like it’s the most normal thing in the world, takes another sip, and at least Todd seems to have picked out the right cocktail. “I did tell you that I wasn’t from around here, didn’t I?”  
“Yes, you said you were from _England_.”

Dirk’s expression becomes somewhat sheepish, an unusual look on him, one that makes him look a little bit younger than he is.  
“Ah, well. That wasn’t a lie, not really, just not all of the truth. I am, in fact from England, but I wasn’t born there.”  
Dirk isn’t very intent on continuing to talk about it, that much is obvious, but Todd cannot quite let it go, not yet. The other is still a mystery he wants to solve, now more so than ever.  
“So you were born in Poland?”, he asks, and Dirk seems torn for a moment, then grabs Todd’s hand and turns around, dragging him into what seems like another, completely random direction. Knowing Dirk, it will probably lead them to the Blackjack tables.  
“No”, Dirk tells him over his shoulder, a surprisingly curt answer. “Now, come along, Todd!”

 

Predictably, Dirk leads them to the Blackjack tables, looks at Todd strangely when he asks him to sit down and try, but complies. And loses the first three rounds.  
At first, Todd can hardly believe it, because as far as he is concerned, playing something like Blackjack should be perfect for the other, but although Dirk plays the game with just as much enthusiasm as Todd expected of him, he is also surprisingly incapable at winning.

In the end, it’s Todd who has to pull the other away, before he spends more of the coins they traded their money for on drawing more cards than any sane person would.

“Why did this not work?”, he asks Dirk while he still has his hand around Dirk’s wrist, stroking soft skin with the pad of his thumb. “Shouldn’t you be, like, a genius at this?”  
“At playing cards?”, Dirk asks, sounding more confused than he has any right to. “Why would I be? I have never played Blackjack before in my life.”  
“Well, you know. Your not-psychic thing. You guessed the cowboy I drew in that diner, so why not the cards you were going to draw?”

“Oh. Well.” There is a kind of quiet realisation hidden in Dirk’s tone, but not of the happy, excited kind Todd is used to. Instead, it sounds like he has dragged a memory Dirk wanted nothing but forget about to the front of his mind again, and it doesn’t take a hunch, a cosmic hint, for Todd to figure out he fucked this up, somehow.  
“That’s just… not how it works”, Dirk tells him before he can take back the question, though, speaking slowly and sounding tentative in the worst of ways.

Todd tightens his hand around the other’s wrist without quite knowing why, but it seems to work, because Dirk looks from some point just above Todd’s shoulder at him again. He still looks vaguely distraught, and Todd hates himself for causing the sun to disappear from Dirk’s gaze.  
“How does it work, then?”, he asks, and Dirk seems conflicted, like he either doesn’t know the answer, or doesn’t admit he does. Neither option seems very reassuring. “If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine too. I never understood it before either, and it didn’t seem to make much of a difference.”  
Todd tries to give the other as reassuring a smile as he possibly can, and while Dirk doesn’t smile back, he seems to appreciate it anyway.  
“It’s fine, after all – well, keeping things from you didn’t really work out so well.” He tries to smile now, a wry curl of lips that would look right on Todd, but looks terribly wrong on someone like Dirk, who should always be made of sunshine and other, happier things. “It’s-“

A moment passes, feeling worryingly long; someone bumps into Todd from behind, but he hardly notices, because Dirk looks like he is lost for words, and Todd cannot remember the last time anything like that happened. Dirk’s free hand is tugging at the hem of his shirt, and although it’s such a small thing, it’s still hard to watch.  
There isn’t much Todd can do, not here and now, and not in general, because he’s always been better at breaking than at fixing things, but he tries his best, lets go of Dirk’s wrist to lace their fingers together, instead, squeezing.  

“It’s different”, Dirk finally says, squeezes back and releases some of the tension building up inside of Todd with those two words alone. “No matter of life or death, you see, for no one. So, as far as the universe is concerned, there is no reason for me to know what’s on those cards. It can be…forced to reconsider, but that’s a rather uncomfortable matter. Electroshocks, mostly. Not… pleasant.”

Somehow, Dirk looks smaller, fragile almost, and although he can’t know more than a fraction of the truth, Todd’s heart plummets, shatters somewhere at the level of his feet.  
“Electroshocks?”, he echoes, although he isn’t certain he wants to know any more. He did know that there had to be some kind of backstory hidden behind Dirk’s bright eyes, some trauma lurking in his smiles, but when the other hadn’t wanted to talk about even after Black Wing happened, Todd had just accepted it, and never would have expected anything like this.  
“Among other things”, Dirk confirms with another of those terribly unfitting smiles, and the only thing that keeps Todd from throwing his arms around the other and holding him close is that he doesn’t know if it’s what Dirk wants, or just what he does.

“Look”, Dirk starts, and stops Todd’s contemplating easily. “I’ll tell you everything, if you want to, but can we do it somewhere else? Back at the hotel, maybe?”  
He sounds like he is pleading, and Todd regrets everything he has ever said to leave Dirk in such a state, but he nods anyway. His fingers squeeze Dirk’s hand a little bit, and Todd swallows down the words pressing against his lips from behind because he can’t be sure if they’d make Dirk feel better or worse.  
When Dirk smiles this time, he looks a little bit more like himself.

 

The walk back to the hotel is short and yet seems to last forever; Todd doesn’t let go of Dirk’s hand for even a second, because no matter what Colonel Riggins and his goons did to the man beside him, Todd needs to make sure that Dirk knows he’s not alone anymore.  

When they arrive at their room, it looks smaller than it did before; when Dirk sinks down onto the unused bed, he looks smaller too, like another notch in the bedpost of the horrible, horrible things Todd has done.  
He sits down right next to the other, even if he lets go of Dirk’s hand now, instead opting down pulling his legs up onto the mattress, so he can turn to face Dirk, searching his face for any kind of clue. Dirk doesn’t meet his eyes, but continues playing with the hem of his shirt, slowly fraying it.

A second passes, then another, and Todd knows he could say something to prompt Dirk to talk, but he doesn’t want to. If they have this conversation, they will have it on Dirk’s terms and his alone.

“It was back at Black Wing”, the other says into the silence surrounding them without any warning, almost taking Todd off guard, and his voice is a fragile, broken thing, ready to splinter. Todd takes a deep breath to steel himself for what is to come. “I was eight or nine when they took me in, I can’t really remember, and it took a few weeks, but at some point, they started with their tests. They were fun, at first, mainly because I was so bored _anything_ would have been fun, which wasn’t staring at the ceiling of my room. A doctor would hold up a card with a symbol on it, and I had to guess what it was. There were different cards, at least a dozen of them. A red heart, a green circle, a blue dolphin… that one was always my favourite.”  
His voice grows softer, and Todd cannot know it for certain, but is fairly sure that Dirk can see those cards in front of him, counts them once more. It’s written across his face, the memory Todd is making him relive, and although he has no experience to compare it to, Todd’s heart still aches in sympathy.  
“I got all of them wrong”, Dirk says, looks at him with a wry smile, his eyes looking pained, their usual spark extinguished. “Again and again, although they kept me up for hours. Of course, there was the occasional right guess, but nothing to suggest the ability they were looking for. So after weeks of the same cards again and again and again, one of those absolutely great doctors had the amazing idea that maybe they hadn’t put me under enough stress yet.”

It’s hard not to imagine in too many details what might have happened, all the terrible procedures a boy like Dirk, alone and lost, should never have had to go through.

“What kind of stress?”, Todd enquires after a few seconds of silence. He is met with more silence, then a sigh.  
“Different things. Jalapeños at first, the really hot ones, that make your mouth feel like you have swallowed molten lead. I had to chew them during the tests or between them. Then ice water I had to put my feet in, then little prickly needles. None of them works, so they tried something else, and something else and something else until something did bring results. Electro shocks, high enough not to maim or lead to lasting damage, but enough to make my body believe it wouldn’t necessarily survive it. Apparently that was the little push the universe needed to convince it that it should help me.”  
Again, a smile, one that hurts as much as the one before; Dirk is still fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

“They stopped working, too”, Dirk continues in the end, and the need to hold him somehow is almost a palpable thing, a physical need in his chest. “The shocks. Then they used… different methods. I guess they decided that there was no need to make sure there were no marks left anymore.”  
There is more still hidden underneath the shaky pretence of calmness Dirk is wearing, and although Todd pushed him once, he doesn’t want to push again.  
So instead of pushing, he reaches out, grabs one of Dirk’s hands in his own, brushing thumbs across soft skin and thin bones. And Dirk looks surprised at the contact, although Todd thought they had touched enough to make it the most natural thing in the world by now.

“I don’t want you to see me like that”, Dirk says and his voice is incredibly quiet, still fragile, still ready to splinter. “As a test subject. Some freak that needs to be prodded and poked to reveal his secrets. As – as Svlad.”  
“What?”  
“Svlad”, Dirk repeats, but at least looks at him now. “That was my name. Before I became Dirk, back at Black Wing and before that. I didn’t want to keep it; it didn’t seem like me anymore. If it ever did in the first place.”  
“Svlad”, Todd repeats, more to try out the name than anything else, and yet Dirk all but flinches. “No, I agree. Dirk suits you far better.”  
He tries a smile and Dirk doesn’t quite reciprocate it, but seems to try at least; it’s not enough so Todd raises Dirk’s hand to his lips, places a kiss on the other’s knuckles.

“And I won’t”, Todd adds, because although he feels like he shouldn’t have to say it, he wants to. “See you differently. I wouldn’t know how to. Just because you’ve got some shit in the past, it doesn’t change that you’re the most ridiculous, infuriating person I’ve ever met. And the best – “  
He stops, because what he wanted to say is true and yet not true anymore, something in between and yet completely different, something Todd doesn’t know he wants to say out-loud yet, if ever.  
“- and something more than my best friend.”  
It’s close enough.

 

They end up close together on the bed, hardly more than a few inches between them, their fingers intertwined and their eyes locked. Dirk’s are still a red-rimmed, but he seems placated by Todd’s words at least, by his touches.  
“Sometimes, I cannot believe you’re still here”, Dirk confesses suddenly, and tightens his fingers around Todd’s, as if to make sure that he’s right. “After all this. But I am glad you are.”  
It’s hard to find the words to reply, but once he has found them, they seem easy to say and easier still to believe.  
“I don’t think there is anywhere I would rather be right now.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that usually very little happens in these chapters, but this time, there is really nothing that happens. At all.  
> Apart from a billion kisses at least.
> 
> Also, maybe you noticed the slightly higher rating now - if you just want the kissing and none of the touching, stop reading like seven or eight paragraphs before the end.
> 
> And one last thing - special thanks to nekosmuse for answering more questions about the USA than any person should have to, and helping me out so much with this ♥

It's the very first thought in Todd’s head when he wakes – he doesn’t want to leave.  
They are still tangled together, one of Todd’s legs in between Dirk’s longer ones, his head tucked under the other man’s chin so Dirk’s breath washes over his scalp, warm and damp. He feels safe, and it’s a peculiar, unfamiliar sensation, nice but confusing.  
Dirk shifts and it’s easy to move with him, bury himself deeper in this cocoon of warmth and affection and forget about everything else.

 

He must have fallen asleep, because he wakes up again, this time because Dirk moves, pulling back and suddenly, Todd is a little bit cold, a little bit alone.  
Dirk doesn’t leave though, stays still until Todd finally moves his head, gazes up at the other and ignores that the muscles in the back of his neck are complaining, because Dirk looks at him with some sort of awe shining out of his eyes, some sort of love.  
For a moment, Todd wonders what it is Dirk sees written across his face.

On the tip of his tongue, a dozen things are waiting, wanting to be spoken and but he swallows them down for now at least, because it’s too early for confessions and too late for secrets.

“How about”, he starts instead, swallows, because although it’s no confession and no secret, it’s still something that could change a lot, if not everything. “We get up, find something to eat and then ignore that there’s a world out there to see and spend the day in bed instead?”

Dirk looks at him like someone might watch a sunrise over a city they never set a foot into before, like a child might stare when first seeing freshly-fallen snow; excitement and disbelief and wonder all mixed together into a wide-eyed, beautiful gaze that lasts a few moments before Dirk nods.  
A blush is dusting his cheeks, and Todd cannot quite look at him, cannot quite look away, so he does what is easiest; leans in and kisses Dirk.

 

To say that Dirk is bouncing with nervous energy when they set out is an understatement; he’s vibrating with it, long, elegant fingers twitching against Todd’s when he grabs the other’s hand as they leave, showered and with Dirk’s kisses tasting like peppermint at the back of the elevator.  
Public affection has never been something Todd was comfortable with before, sneering at couples making out in the back row of cinemas, at teenagers blocking everyone’s way in shopping malls because they couldn’t be bothered to let go of each other’s hands, friends that got together and annoyed everyone with their lovesick gazes.  
And yet, it’s hard to stay away from Dirk, not like he sometimes kept touching a girl he was taking home, but because of something even worse: because with Dirk’s hand in his, everything looks a little brighter, feels easier and better, and because he likes the constant reassurance that the other is still there, even if Todd hasn’t done much to deserve it.

And it’s not like Dirk seems to mind it, just grabs Todd’s hand a little bit tighter when the elevator doors open. Maybe it’s not the best idea, telling the world and everyone who looks in their direction that they are more than friends, but it’s the only one Todd seems to have.  
“Do you wanna go out or just say here?”, he asks Dirk, who fidgets at his side, bouncing with every step; a couple passes them, scowling when they see their joined hands, and Todd realises that he doesn’t even want to let go long enough to flip them off. It’s quite a surprise.

“Stay, I think”, Dirk tells him after a moment of contemplation, his voice a little bit softer than usual, like he cannot quite concentrate on what is going on around them. Like he’s somewhere else with his thoughts.  
Todd is, too.  
“Alright”, he answers, and is secretly glad for Dirk’s answer; he might not be as pleasantly panicked as the other, but he’s definitely… something. “We can do that.”

 

They have breakfast at the hotel’s restaurant, Dirk getting pancakes and Todd toast and scrambled eggs, and Dirk seems unable to stop talking for more than the few seconds it takes to put another forkful of pancake into his mouth and chew.  
It’s impossibly endearing.  
“-and – I think I might have mentioned this before – really, Thor wasn’t that handsome, even if sort of charming, in his own, weird, godly kind of way. Kate though – Kate Schechter, that is, with two C’s, two H’s, two E’s and also a T, an R and an S – she was quite fascinating. Wonderful hair, too.”  
Another bite of pancake, dripping with syrup, disappears behind plush lips and Todd knows he could say something, ask Dirk to clarify the dozen things he doesn’t understand about the story he is currently hearing, but he doesn’t, because it doesn’t seem to matter.  
What matters is that Dirk is here and excited and that Todd cannot wait to get him up into their room again.

 

As much as Dirk was talking before, he’s silent the second they are back in the elevator and Todd understands why. His own heart is beating too fast, his hands are sweaty, making him feel like he’s a teenager once again, waiting for his prom date to step out of the door.  
Only that Dirk isn’t a prom date and they are not going to a dance, but upstairs to do… well.  
Todd thinks he knows the general direction their actions will take, but wouldn’t be able to say just how far they will go, how much Dirk is comfortable with, what he has done before or what he wants.

Todd knows what _he_ wants, but knows that unlike with former boy- and girlfriends, with groupies he picked up after concerts, what he wants matters a lot less to him than what Dirk is comfortable with.  
It’s a new kind of sensation, more selfless than he is used to, and although Todd isn’t sure what to do with the feeling, he likes it, thinks he could get used to it.  
He could ask, of course, but up until now they haven’t talked about any of this, haven’t even put a name to whatever they are to each other, and Todd is something very close to terrified to ruin the thoughtless ease between them by something as mundane as this.

Dirk is looking over at him, like his eyes are glued to Todd’s face, and maybe that is why Todd’s treacherous hands are trembling when he cards his fingers through his hair. He smiles, or tries to, and the elevator stops, saves Todd from whatever his lips could tell the other.  
Their hands brush when they step outside, and yet Todd doesn’t intertwine their fingers like he usually would, something that seems to surprise both of them. The blush on Dirk’s cheeks is a little bit darker now, and Todd has imagined it before, but the thought that he might really get to see how far down the pink goes, is almost too much for his poor brain. Kissing Dirk, cuddling close to the other, even sliding his hands across a slim chest, letting them follow the line of Dirk’s spine, he can comprehend all of that, and yet it seems hard to even think of Dirk moaning beneath him, above him.

Although his mind is reeling, it’s not awkward between them as they walk down the hallway, perhaps because it’s too tense even for that, even when they reach number 420 and Todd finds that getting his key card into the appropriate slot is an almost impossible task. His hands are trembling, shaking and Dirk is twitching beside him, close enough to touch and yet it feels like he’s just out of reach.  
Todd manages somehow, though, and the door swings open; with it, Todd’s stomach drops to his knees. If he has ever been this nervous before sex – or any permutation of it – he cannot remember when.

“Alright”, he mutters, more to himself than Dirk, but the other hums in agreement anyway as he walks inside, slowly, almost tentatively starts taking off his tie.   
It’s nothing, really, doesn’t reveal even a sliver of skin, and yet Todd’s throat constricts, makes him glad that he can close the door, turn away for a moment. He shouldn’t be this affected, but his body doesn’t seem to notice that, lets his heart beat faster and his mouth go dry.

When he turns – and turn he does, even if a little bit later than necessary – Dirk is standing there, his shoes and socks taken off, leaving him barefooted on the burgundy carpet, and he looks so lost, but so excited, so hopeful. And Todd is used to affection – a familiar, soft, if aching kind of warmth when he thinks about Amanda, a grateful, guilty, never-changing love for his parents, a slightly awed, strong mix of respect and fondness he feels for Farah – but this is new.  
This is a wave of _something_ , affection and lust and warmth mixed together, sprinkled with the knowledge that they fit together like Todd has never fit with anyone before, with an undercurrent of gratitude and trust and the wish to just stay at least in the proximity of Dirk for the rest of his life. It’s almost overwhelming, makes it hard to breathe, and it’s just what he needs, because suddenly, he doesn’t think.

He doesn’t think, and just walks, gets onto his tiptoes and kisses Dirk deeply, one hand on the other’s cheek and the other on his hip. A few minutes pass, maybe because Dirk is surprised, but then he melts against Todd, lips softening, parting _for him_ , and maybe he should have done it a long time ago, but he didn’t; he does it now.  
Todd puts a name to it, that feeling that is burning in his chest, clutching at his heart and lungs and throat, calls it _love_ , and finds that the name rings true.

 

They stumble towards the bed, lips locked and Todd’s hands fumbling with the buttons of Dirk’s shirt, not at all desperate, but wonderfully excited, like every brush of skin against skin is fanning the flames inside of him, making them burn even brighter.  
Dirk doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands, letting them flutter between Todd’s hips and waist, touching and yet never settling. If it’s nerves, or if Dirk feels like he does, overwhelmed by the sudden possibilities, Todd cannot say; it sets his skin on fire in any case.

His hands are clumsier than they usually are, slip on one or two buttons, but he manages and yet cannot break their kiss to look when he finally pushes the shirt off Dirk’s shoulders. It falls away easily, hits the floor with a soft sound, and Dirk shivers, presses closer.  
Although his lips are still soft, almost gentle, Dirk’s hands are sliding around Todd’s waist with a new kind of insistence, leaving a trail of goose bumps on Todd’s skin, even if Dirk is only touching cloth.  
His own fingers are tracing lines down Dirk’s arms, feeling the press of bone against his palms when he lets his hands travel up again, cupping Dirk’s neck.

The other’s pulse is strong and fast against his skin, like his body can hardly even contain the flow of his blood, and Todd’s abused flesh aches in sympathy, his own heart pumping blood through his veins at a pace that is worrying at least. It’s a thrill he has never felt before, in all the thirty-three years of his life, maybe because he has never had someone like Dirk: someone he wants, but someone he loves far more than that, someone he longs to touch and yet knows he could be happy just being close to.  
Maybe it’s because he didn’t meet Dirk in a smoke-filled bar, surrounded by grinding couples and empty beer bottles, driven by lust, and later asked himself if they could maybe make each other happy too, or maybe it’s just because he has never met anyone like Dirk before in his life.

And maybe, Todd could figure it out, if he had enough time, maybe he’d even want to, but Dirk slides cool fingertips under the hem of Todd’s shirt, licks into his mouth almost tentatively, the bed right there, waiting.  
He has hardly ever forgotten about something this quickly.

 

They sleep together, if sleep together is what you can call their tangle of limbs and bodies, half-breathless moans being passed from one mouth to another. Dirk is as inexperienced as he is enthusiastic, blushes when he peels off Todd’s t-shirt and this time, Todd pulls back to watch, finds out that the pink dusting Dirk’s cheeks slowly seeps down his neck until it is just so touching the peaks of his collarbones, making them stand out even more.  
He’s responsive too, when Todd chases the blood-warm flush with his lips, arches up like he is begging for another kiss, another touch, and Todd gives them willingly, tastes the salt of Dirk’s skin under his tongue, maps out the hollow of the other’s throat, the line of his jaw and the beat of his blood under the layers of tissue.

Every kind of lick, nibble, kiss draws a different kind of sound from Dirk, ranging from little hitches of breath and subtle whines to a moan that sets Todd’s skin aflame when he scrapes his teeth across the other’s pulse. It’s like watching Dirk come to life beneath his hands and mouth.

He gives and gives and gives, makes his way down Dirk’s body slowly, but surely, and it’s another thing he isn’t familiar with, taking this much time to explore another person, find out what makes them tick. But Dirk is worth it, and not only that - putting off his own instant gratification in favour of watching Dirk arch off the mattress when Todd flicks his tongue over one of his nipples isn’t a chore anymore, it’s an adventure, it’s falling in love all over again.

The morning light is making Dirk’s skin glow, erasing small imperfections and the light, honey-coloured freckles that form galaxies on the bridge of Dirk’s nose, and Todd is glad for the air conditioning keeping the room cool, because he already feels close to overheating.  
Lust is coursing through his veins, making his nerves fire ceaselessly, and every moment he spends touching Dirk is making it better, is making it worse. He still can’t stop, pulls one of the other’s hands from where it’s gripping the sheets and kisses the knuckles, drags his lips over Dirk’s fingers.  
Their eyes meet, Dirk’s darker than Todd has ever seen them before, his lips kiss-red and parted, and there is nothing Todd can do but bring their lips together once more, sucking his own kisses and the other’s moan from Dirk’s mouth.

Concentrating on anything but Dirk’s lips is difficult, but after a few, long, blissful seconds, Todd manages to move, slides a hand down the other man’s body and finds the button of Dirk’s pants by touch alone. His fingers brush across skin, and Dirk makes the sweetest sound, a half-formed gasp, which Todd feels against his own lips more than he hears.

He’s lost in their kiss, lost enough that Dirk’s hand fluttering down across his back almost comes as a shock. It’s a gentle touch, even as Dirk decides where to let it settle – right in the middle of Todd’s back, like he has half a mind to push him closer – and yet, it makes Todd’s skin tingle.  
Touching Dirk is one thing, enough to make his pants feel too tight and his body too large to fit in his skin, but being touched in return, with such care, like them being tangled together is a dream Dirk is still half-expecting to wake up from, is better still.

In the quiet room, pulling down Dirk’s zipper sounds impossibly loud, and Todd stills without wanting to, only manages to move again when Dirk’s hand on his back flexes, slides a little bit further down his back. It might not be a deliberate invitation, but it feels like one anyway, and Todd takes it gladly.  
He sucks on Dirk’s lower lip one last time, drawing another soft groan from the other man, before he pulls away, sits back on his legs to look down onto the mess he’s created.

Dirk is flushed all over, the pink from his cheeks having trickled down way past his collarbones, his maroon pants jutting open, his skin damp with sweat. There is no trace left from his carefully styled hair, the mahogany strands spread out like a dark halo across the pillow, and Todd feels his heart expand, that exhilarating mixture of love and lust and ever-lingering guilt rushing through him until it fills every inch of him, threatening to burst out, because his body isn’t big enough to contain it.  
The only sound is Dirk panting, and for a moment, Todd thinks that he could lose himself in the other’s body forever and a day.

The moment stretches, like it doesn’t want to leave them just yet, and Todd holds onto it, savours it; when he lets it go, it’s only because Dirk shifts, looking up at him like Todd holds all the answers. He doesn’t, and they both must know that, and yet Todd feels touched.  
Having someone’s trust placed in him isn’t a regular occurrence, and especially not like this, when he doesn’t know, but can guess, that Dirk has been hurt far too many times before.

Blue eyes blink; Dirk tilts his head, like he’s not quite sure what he is doing is the right thing. His hands wander down his own body, pale skin against pale skin, and Todd’s throat goes dry in a way Death Valley didn’t even succeed in, because Dirk finds the hem of his pants and pushes them down.  
It’s not the fluid motion one sees on screen: the fabric gets caught around his knees, then his calves, forces Dirk to sit up to get it over his feet, but it doesn’t matter, Todd’s eyes are fixed to the new skin revealed.

“Todd?”, Dirk asks, and sounds hoarse and confused still; it’s the first word he has spoken in such a long time. He must have been staring, Todd realises, for far longer than he thought, because when he tears his gaze away from Dirk’s slender thighs, he finds the other watching him with wide eyes.  
“…yes. Sorry”, he replies with a voice to match Dirk’s, and yet can’t help but chuckle, lean in to steal the quickest of kisses. “I got a bit distracted. Too much to see.”  
The comment only seems to confuse Dirk more, at least for a few seconds; realisation looks good on him when it comes, with wide eyes and a suddenly deepened blush, gaping mouth.

“ _Oh_ ”, he breathes out softly, beautifully flattered and flustered, a small smile stealing on his lips, once they close again. “Well. There could be more to see, though. Especially for me.”  
This time, it’s Todd who takes too long to understand, Todd who flushes and looks at Dirk’s still flustered, smiling face with a vague sense of surprised amazement, and Todd, who struggles to get out of his jeans.  
If anything, he’s even less elegant than Dirk was before, and that although he’s the one wearing the far more sensible pants. But he makes Dirk laugh, a soft, happy sound, and when he looks back up, Dirk is sitting there, watching, his hair still a mess and his cheeks pink, and it’s just a moment, a split second, that Todd needs to understand that this is how it’s supposed to be.

He has had good sex, bad sex, sex that made him laugh, but never sex like this: easy and carefree and yet no less passionate for it, with someone who laughs at him getting stuck in his pants without there being a cruel edge to it, who still looks at him like he has hung the stars, even though Dirk has to know he doesn’t deserve any of it.  
He hasn’t, Todd thinks, even while he bursts out laughing too, stops struggling with the garment for a moment, had sex with someone he honestly, truly loves, yet.

The laughter trickles away, leaves them both smiling, Todd’s pants still stuck around his ankles; this time, it’s Dirk, who shifts closer until he can pull Todd’s ankles into his lap.  He gives him a smile that lacks the seductive edge Todd has come to expect in these moments, although it’s an intimate position they are in, the muscles of Dirk’s thighs tensing and relaxing again while the other tugs at his pants, freeing his feet inch by inch.  
And, oh God, Todd is aware just how intimate it is, does everything in his power not to let his eyes stray from Dirk’s deft fingers. They work far more efficiently than he may have expected, freeing him from his pants and then tossing the piece of clothing aside, neither of them caring where it lands.

It leaves them close, and although they have been closer before, it doesn’t feel like it at all. Dirk’s eyes are still dark with lust, but soft and bright with mirth, and Todd doesn’t know which one of them leans in first, not that it matters. What matters is that they both do, and that they meet somewhere in the middle, that they kiss.

Dirk’s lips are swollen, but just as enthusiastic as always, one of his hands coming up to cup Todd’s cheek while Todd does what he wanted the whole time, shifts and shuffles until he can tuck his feet under his calves, sit back on his legs and press closer. Until there’s no space left between them, Dirk’s heart beating next to his.  
It leaves him between the other’s spread legs, Dirk’s thighs pressed against his own, and the only thing it takes to send them tumbling onto the mattress is the tiniest push. Todd gives it, and Dirk smiles against his lips, a feeling as wonderful as it is easily swept away by something novel and even more exciting; Dirk’s whole body pressed against his.

He’s thin and warm all over, the length of his cock hard against Todd’s stomach and his lips soft and sweet, and Todd has felt all of this before. Not with Dirk, with others, and maybe that is why now, it’s almost too much to take, lust chasing away the remnants of amusement, because there is no space left for it. Just for this, for Dirk sucking in a sharp breath when Todd breaks their kiss for a moment, looking maybe as lost to the world as Todd feels, their bodies aligning, not perfectly, but well enough.

And suddenly, Todd cannot wait a second longer, suddenly, every layer of clothing is one too many. He looks down at Dirk, who looks back with wide, trusting eyes, and Todd loves him fiercely, desperately, foolishly.  
His lips find Dirk’s jaw, leave a trail of kisses from his chin up to his earlobe, while Todd reaches down and pushes his boxer shorts down. It takes some fumbling, some more kisses and another bit of chuckling against the soft skin of Dirk’s throat until they’re discarded, but just a look at the other’s face to know what to do next.

Dirk is watching him wide-eyed, heat making his gaze feel almost like a physical brand, and although it’s hard to break away from him once more, Todd does, even if only so he can hook his fingers under the elastic of Dirk’s briefs and tug.  
It puts him on display, all of him, and Todd has felt uncomfortable and self-conscious before, and yet hardly spares those possibilities a thought; Dirk looks at him just like he did before, adoring, wanting, trusting.

The fabric of the briefs seems to cling to Dirk’s skin, so Todd pulls a little harder, Dirk lifts his hips, and then the only barrier between them is gone, just another piece of clothing Todd can fling aside.  
And Dirk is bare beneath him, wide-eyes, hard because of the kisses Todd has left on creamy, flushed skin, which have left his taste on Todd’s lips, and it’s more than he’d deserve and more than he ever thought he’d have.

Words get caught in his throat, which, given the alternative of speaking them out-loud, might be better anyway, and for a few moments, Todd cannot speak, because Dirk isn’t beautiful, but he’s kind and trusting and brilliant in his own way, and he’s _loved_ , and at least for now, he’s _his_.

And it’s not words he needs anyway, not when they have found some other, deeper way to connect, so Todd uses that instead, leans down to kiss Dirk. It’s the only point of contact for a few, long seconds, both enough and too little, and yet it takes Dirk’s arms sliding around Todd’s neck to drag him down against the other’s body.  
The first touch is a shock, skin against skin, flesh against flesh, and Todd gasps his moan into Dirk’s mouth, hips rolling against the other’s by their own volition. It’s a lazy drag against the sensitive shaft of his cock, too dry to cause only pleasure and too slow to be enough, and yet it feels better than some one night stands Todd had in the past, if only because Dirk’s breath hitches, his arms tighten around Todd’s neck.

They’re not quite kissing anymore, lips sliding against lips in an uncoordinated fashion, but although it’s difficult to breathe like this, Todd doesn’t pull away, wouldn’t know how to. He grinds down again, feels the line of Dirk’s cock against his own, leaving a smear of wetness on his stomach, and the moan vibrating against his lips is all he needs now and maybe ever, Dirk clinging to him, sharing each and every of his breaths.

Todd is familiar with lust-driven frenzy during sex, chasing his orgasm and perhaps the one of his partner, but this is different and the pace they find is slow, unhurried, bodies moving together like waves crashing on a shore, every sound Dirk makes as sweet as music to Todd’s ears.  
They are close and yet, after seemingly endless minutes, Dirks brings them closer together still, wraps one of his impossibly long legs around Todd, changes the angle of their next thrust and sends them both reeling. It’s close to too much, the added pressure, the delicious slide of skin against skin, and the knowledge that Dirk needs this as much as he does; Todd is trembling when he rolls his hips again, smears a half moan, half kiss against Dirk’s jaw.  
Fingertips push into his shoulders, insistent and yet gentle, Dirk arching up to meet his sloppy thrusts. He is breathing heavily into Todd’s hair, and suddenly, Todd needs to _see_.

Pulling away is an almost impossible feat, but he manages, is met with a sight he could never have prepared for; Dirk flushed, his eyes glazed over with lust, his pupils blown so wide they swallow up the blue of his eyes. He looks gone with pleasure, like he is drowning in it, and Todd can feel his blood being set aflame, turned into a dizzying rush of molten lust.  
Their gazes meet, although Dirk only seems half conscious; he grinds down against Dirk and makes him moan, eyes fluttering shut like it’s impossible for the other to keep them open a second longer.  
There is another thrust, another, another, and Todd can feel his orgasm approaching with every spark of pleasure he draws from Dirk’s body, but doesn’t expect that just one more roll of his hips, slow and desperate still, pushes Dirk over the edge.

His hips snap up, colliding with Todd’s, his movements still not frenzied, just more intense, his head thrown back, and maybe it’s the first time Todd can call Dirk _beautiful_ without exaggerating, when the other comes and it’s Todd’s name on his lips, moaned out with something like reverence clinging to the sound, making it sound more like a prayer than anything else.

Todd follows only a few moments afterwards, pressing his face into the crook of Dirk’s neck and mouthing at the skin there, to prevent any treacherous secrets spilling from his lips. Dirk is pliant underneath him, allows him to take the pleasure he needs, arms tightening around Todd, holding him close, as he rides out his orgasm, that explosion of white-hot pleasure right there in his core.

It takes a few moments until Todd can think clearly again, even longer until he can try to roll off Dirk; it doesn’t work, because the arms around him tighten and keep him right where he is. Todd knows he’ll regret it later, when they inevitably get up and shower, but right now, still half-drowned in post-orgasmic bliss, he can’t bring himself to care.  
So instead, he busies himself with burying his face in the crook of Dirk’s neck again, feeling the other hum in agreement at the back of his throat. His fingers are tracing slow, lazy patterns around Todd’s shoulder blades, his breath washing down in warm huffs over the side of Todd’s neck.  
“Is it always supposed to be like this?”, Dirk asks softly, after a few more moments have passed, his voice rough and beautiful and unsure.

The question makes Todd pause, wonder what it is Dirk has experienced before and what might have been the first time; he ignores it for the moment, and kisses Dirk’s pulse point, darts out his tongue to taste.  
“Yes”, he mutters in the end, although he can only guess it; he hopes it’s the truth. “I think so.”  
The arms around him tighten again, Dirk presses a kiss to the side of his head, and this – Todd can think it now, might even be able to say it one day – this must be what love feels like.


	7. Chapter 7

They fall asleep in each other’s arms, wake up still tangled together, as sticky and disgusting as Todd knew they were going to be. Dirk pulls a face when he pulls back, and Todd can’t help but laugh, feeling happier than he has in a long time.  
It must be early afternoon, judging by the sun burning down on the city around them, too late to check out and continue their trip, too early to call it a day, so he talks Dirk into getting up and into the shower, ignoring his own nakedness in favour of concentrating on the long lines of Dirk’s body, the tilt of his head when the shower’s spray hits him, the warmth of his skin when they inevitably touch.

Gentle fingers drift over Todd’s shoulder, down his arms, in a way that isn’t helping any of them getting clean, but feels impossibly nice anyway. It isn’t the beginning of round two, it’s just touching for the sake of it, and Todd melts into the almost embrace, turns it into a full one.  
“I’m so glad I’m here with you”, he mutters against Dirk’s collar bone, and isn’t sure if he hopes that the water has drowned his words before they have reached the other’s ears or not.

 

He takes Dirk to the Venetian after it has gotten dark and they have spent the rest of the day where he promised they would, in bed. With the night smoothing out its rough edges, glittering lights and neon signs replacing the sun, Las Vegas looks almost beautiful, charming in its own special way.  
The air around them is still hot, but Todd doesn’t mind, because he knows he’d feel warm all over no matter the temperature around them, just because Dirk keeps beaming at him like no sight around them could possibly compare to Todd next to him. It’s an addictive feeling, mattering so much to someone.

A few people look, talk, because their hands are still locked, fingers intertwining and untangling again, a seemingly unending cycle, but Todd hardly spares them a glance, instead leads Dirk through the streets, until they find the right hotel at last. It sparkles from the outside, hundreds of illuminated lines creeping up the walls; a gust of cool air greets them as they walk inside, a hallway decked out in marble, lined with Roman pillars.  
It’s pompous and kitschy and yet somehow beautiful, but Dirk takes one, long look, then turns to glance at Todd.

“I am absolutely aware that this is America, and most of your compatriots have never been to Venice, but I can assure you that it looks nothing like this. I don’t even know where to begin when trying to list the flaws, but I suppose the most obvious one would be the sky. Venice definitely has a sky, no ceiling frescos.”  
Dirk sounds perfectly serious; if he is, Todd cannot quite tell. He rolls his eyes anyway, just to make sure.  
“Dirk”, he tells him, and doesn’t even try to keep the fond exasperation out of his voice. “Dirk, honestly. Just give it a moment, okay?”  
The other doesn’t seem particularly happy with the answer, but lets Todd pull him further into the building anyway.

“It does seem like a rather vast oversight, though, even you have to admit that “, Dirk says and does not give it a moment at all, which isn’t really surprising.  
“Dirk –“, Todd starts, and then realises that the only thing he could say is repeat himself, which seems useless and futile and not worth it at all, so Todd shuts his mouth again, focusses on navigating them through the throngs of people crowding the hallways instead. There are far too many for his taste, too many stressed out parents and whining children, tourist groups, newly married couples, making it almost impossible to pass through. Especially when Dirk still seems excited, even after having deemed the Venetian to not be up to his standards, pulls on Todd’s hand ever so often to drag him closer to a shop window, a particularly waxy looking potted plant, anything that seems to catch his attention.  
How they manage, Todd doesn’t know, but they make it to the end of the hallway, and there it is, a smaller, surely less impressive version of Venice spread out in front of them.

Dirk doesn’t look at first, gaze fixed on the pattern on the floor, but that might be for the best; it heightens the surprise when the other does look, most likely alarmed by the sound of waves lapping at the artificial canal, the gondolier’s faint singing.  
Above them, the ceiling is dark, imitating the night sky, but the turquoise water and the faint glow of the buildings’ lamps embrace them, make even the rushed, excited atmosphere around them fade away a little bit.  
The surroundings are lovely, but the wonder in Dirk’s eyes is a sight to behold, his pink lips parted as if awaiting a gasp to leave them.

“When I heard about them having built Venice inside of a hotel, I didn’t expect them to have taken it so literally”, Dirk says softly, looks over at Todd.  
“And yet you were upset that they didn’t have a proper sky before”, Todd reminds him, and Dirk pauses for a moment, almost visibly trying to find a way out of this.  
He does, of course.  
“I still can’t say if they have”, Dirk proclaims, sounds so satisfies with himself that Todd isn’t sure if he wants to hit or kiss him more. “It’s far too dark for that. Now, I know I could take your word for it, Todd, but…”

 

They spend another half an hour wandering around aimlessly, sharing what Todd considers some of the worst ice cream he ever had, and Dirk finds six mistakes the architects made in total, pointing them out not only to Todd, but to unsuspecting tourists and one poor employee as well.  
It’s not quite how he expected the rest of this evening to go, and yet might be what he should have, because it is Dirk holding his hand after all, and yet although he has to shoot more apologetic glances to strangers than even at the Perriman Grand, Todd realises somewhere between a Louis Vuitton store and the last corner he pushed Dirk behind to steal a kiss, that he is fairly certain he could do this for the rest of his life.

 

The last stop they make for the night is in front of the Bellagio.  
Maybe the universe wants them to, because the fountains start their show only a minute or two after they have arrived, water glittering under the electric light, soft music silencing the chatter around them at least a little. It’s a song he doesn’t know, a sweet, sentimental classical tune that seems to envelope them, and if he dared to, Todd would wrap his arms around Dirk’s waist and press close enough to feel the other’s heart beat next to his.  
Like this, Dirk’s hand is warm in his, the music hotter still, and if he tries really hard, Todd can imagine the stars he knows are up there.  
It’s not perfect, but it doesn’t have to be; it’s close enough.

 

Getting back into bed with Dirk, even if the sheets haven’t been changed and are still vaguely disgusting, is a dangerous act somehow. Because now that he knows the curves of the other’s body, the taste of Dirk’s skin and the sounds he makes when Todd’s lips drag across his chest, every piece of clothing that Dirk takes off seems like an invitation.  
He’s tired, a pleasant kind of sleepiness that seems to go hand in hand with too-hot air and the bright lights of the city, the brightest of them all taking off his shirt next to him, and yet his fingertips tingle, beg to touch.

Their eyes meet, and Todd doesn’t know what Dirk sees in his, but there must be something there, giving him away, something that makes Dirk smile and glow even brighter. His fingers move deftly, undo the last buttons and let the shirt fall open, revealing pale skin.  
“You know”, Dirk says almost conversationally, pops open the button of his pants and surely must notice that Todd’s eyes follow the zipper when he pulls it down. “I know that the air conditioning here is rather good, but don’t you also think that it’s too hot to sleep with a lot of clothes on?”  
Todd cannot agree with him fast enough.

 

He falls asleep with Dirk’s taste on his lips for the second time that day, happy and sated and sticky, his arms still around the other man’s waist at last.

 

They wake up again when the sun has already risen, slowly fighting their way to consciousness together, Dirk burying his face in the crook of Todd’s neck, while Todd tangles their legs together, enjoying the other’s warmth, the smell of shampoo and Dirk’s hair.  
He could stay here, wants to, but it’s getting late and they don’t have to talk about it, it’s clear; they are going to move on.

So he slowly, ever so slowly, pulls back, away from Dirk, even if his eyes linger on the other’s scrunched up nose, his messy hair, the smudge of brown, honey-tipped eyelashes. He looks peaceful, happy, and Todd’s heart swells, beats and squeezes a new wave of affection through his veins.  
Dirk’s eyes flutter open, like he just cannot chase away the last bits of sleep; when they finally stay open, his gaze is soft and slightly unfocussed, but resting on Todd anyway.  
“Mornin’”, Dirk mumbles, one hand twitching on the mattress, like he wants to reach out and Todd gets the hint, laces their fingers together. “Are we going to get breakfast on the road?”

“Yeah, sounds good”, Todd replies, smiles and then gives in to Dirk’s pink, plush looking lips, the warmth he knows awaits him there and presses a little kiss to Dirk’s mouth. “Tell the universe I’d like some scrambled eggs for a change though, if I see another plate of diner pancakes I’ll start screaming.”  
Dirk gives him a lazy smile, squeezes Todd’s fingers, and drawls, “Whatever keeps you sane, Todd.”

 

They end up in a diner somewhere in the outskirts of Las Vegas, Dirk munching on waffles with an obscene amount of whipped cream, Todd sipping his coffee. It’s acceptable, as are the eggs, and maybe, he should try to threaten the universe a bit more often.  
“So, where to next?”, Dirk asks, his foot nudges Todd’s, and his smile is as bright as the sun burning down on them. “Anything else you want to see?”  
There are a hundred thousand things Todd wants to see, at least half of them on this continent; there are more postcards he can see in front of his inner eye, and yet he decides on something else, something he doesn’t necessarily want to see, but something he wants to show Dirk.  
“The Grand Canyon, maybe?”, he suggests, rips a piece off his toast, stuffs it in his mouth while he watches Dirk’s lips move, form a circle instead of its usual happy curve.  
“Oh Todd”, he starts, and sounds as excited as Todd hoped he would. “That is a marvellous idea. Just what I expected of you. Excellent work. As my partner.”

There is a tentative edge to the last word, not quite shy but not far from it, and Todd’s stomach turns into a flock of sparrows preparing to fly, fluttering wildly with the weight this little word holds.  
The piece of toast in his mouth prevents him from speaking immediately, which might be for the best; he doesn’t know what else would spill from his lips otherwise.

“Yeah”, he says once he has swallowed, which might not be the most romantic of declarations. “I think I could work with that.”

 

They are on their way to the Grand Canyon, or at least they are for a few minutes, before Dirk yanks the steering wheel around, almost sending them crashing in two different cars and then a wall, before they stop. It’s slightly worrying that Todd hardly breaks a sweat anymore, like he has accepted that he will almost die in a car crash at least once a day.  
Maybe, he has.  
“What are we doing here?”, he asks, because telling Dirk that he’d like to live another few years is futile. “Another hunch?”  
“Of sorts.”

They are parked in front of a run down, shabby pawn shop, empty beer cans and cigarette butts littering the street, and yet Dirk looks radiant as ever when he smiles and then turns to get out of the car. Todd waits a second longer, then sighs although there is no one around to hear before he follows.  
Dirk has already entered when Todd closes the door behind him, of course without bothering to lock the car which most likely doesn’t belong him; he could sigh again, would have every reason to do so, but Todd refrains from it now. It would feel a bit excessive.

Since he cannot lock the door, Todd just walks into the shop, looking over shelves filled with small electronic devices, printers and computers and a single microwave, and finds Dirk talking animated to the woman behind the counter in another language he cannot understand.  
"О, привет, как ты?", Dirk says, and Todd could interrupt, but doesn’t want to. It’s nice somehow, seeing Dirk happy and carefree, even if his sunny smile isn’t directed at Todd for once.  
Instead, he turns towards the guitars lining the walls. Some of them are scratched, the edges busted, the position markers shiny with use, others seem brand new, and Todd longs to reach out and brush his fingers across their wood, feel the music vibrating underneath the varnish.

"Хорошо, сасибо. Не ожидала увидеть кого-то, кто говорит по-русски", the woman answers Dirk, but Todd hardly listens, too caught up in this longing he almost had forgotten about. It’s only when the other man, his _partner_ , replies that his brain makes an effort, even if more out of habit than anything else. And there is a certain beauty in the unfamiliar lilt of Dirk’s voice, the elegant harshness of it.  
"Еле-еле, на самом деле. Но спасибо. Мы - я и мой лучший друг - просто проходили мимо, и у меня появилось очень необычное предчувствие, будто я могу здесь найти что-то, что мне нужно."  
"Что-то особенное?" 

Todd’s hands itch, remind him that it’s been weeks since he last picked up a guitar and let his mind quiet down so his fingers could do the talking, the thinking, and it feels ungrateful somehow, to crave something so mundane when he is living through perhaps the most magical time of his life. And yet.  
And yet, he wants it so much he can taste it.

"Не уверен. Но, скорее, да. Вот это.", Dirk tells the lady, and this time, she moves; Todd doesn’t look up, although her steps are leading her closer.  
О, ты играешь?", she asks, her voice lacking Dirk’s melodious quality, but holding the same warmth. Dirk laughs softly, and Todd finds that he was wrong; Dirk’s voice is warmer than any other he has ever heard.  
“Нет. Но он играет.”

Whatever he is saying, it seems like the end of the conversation, because the woman moves closer, into Todd’s sight, and picks up one of the guitars. It’s an acoustic one, made from brown wood, simple, but in good shape, and maybe he is just too lost in thought, because it takes Todd a few moments to understand what it means.  
He whips around before he has managed to finish the thought, eyes wide, both shocked and touched beyond belief.  
“Dirk! You can’t just buy me a guitar for no reason”, he tells the other, serious and excited, but there is a smile on the other’s face that tells Todd that he won’t change his mind, not ever. And if Todd is honest with himself, something he is slowly getting used to, he has to admit that he doesn’t really want to, either.

“I can and I will”, Dirk answers, reaches for his wallet, and Todd can’t do anything but raise his hands, helpless and helplessly infatuated. “I will call it a business expense, in fact. Music helps me think, have I never told you that? It’s like the whole universe, everything in existence, is made from music somehow. Like you could write a piece and have it hold someone’s being.”  
It’s an odd thing to say and yet that is nothing new, so Todd accepts it, as he accepts the other handing the woman a bunch of dollar notes without even looking, smiling and exchanging another few words in Russian, which Todd doesn’t listen to anymore, because the lady sets down the guitar in front of him, and it’s his.

He hasn’t owned an acoustic guitar since he was sixteen, and he’ll always prefer an electric one, but this one is special. This is a new beginning of sorts, a gift that is so much more than just a guitar, it’s Dirk stopping for him, Dirk knowing that this something he needs, it’s Dirk calling him his partner in the burning Nevada sun and Todd agreeing.  
He grasps the guitar’s neck in his hand and picks it up; it’s heavy and unfamiliar, and Todd loves it already.

 

Dirk tells him to drive, which is strange, because usually, he has to force Dirk out of the driver’s seat; what is even stranger is that Dirk takes the guitar and declares that he will be taking the back seat, along with their duffle bag, a mess of clothes, shoes, plastic wrappers.  
He wants to ask, at least at first, but then decides against it; just gets in the car and smiles at Dirk when the other man hops onto the back seat. The guitar is across his lap, because there is no other place to put it, and somehow, Todd likes the sight.  
A second, then Dirk smiles back, and that, in the end, is what matters.

 

He takes the US-93 S, and it’s peaceful in a strange way, Dirk humming along to the music from the radio and Todd letting himself get lost in thought. The scenery around them is barren, dry, but beautiful anyway, sun reflecting off copper stones and dead grass, and Todd thinks about Amanda.

For the past few days, he has hardly had time to think about her at all, too caught up with Dirk and kissing and remembering the taste of the other’s skin. But he misses her, just like he is sure he will always miss her when she’s not around, misses her when he wants to show her a street sign she’d think funny, when a song comes on that he knows Amanda likes, when his heart feels too large for his chest and he wants to tell the person who knows him best that he’s in love.

And he does show her some of those things, sends pictures and short voice messages, but not more than three a day, never too close after another. Maybe he’s overthinking it, but the peace they have established still feels like a fragile one of sorts, trust growing slowly after Todd has broken it.  
Amanda has told him she understands, and Todd has apologised a thousand times, and on the surface, everything is back to normal, they joke and they laugh and they tease each other, but beneath that, it isn’t.  
Beneath that, Todd is still scared that a wrong word could upset the balance they have established, almost expects that one day, Amanda will wake up and remember that she still hates him after all.

He could live with a lot of things, almost with everything, but he couldn’t live with that.

Amanda is the first memory he has, a cold, white hospital room and his mother asleep on the bed in the middle, his father sitting beside her and bending down to show Todd the bundle in his arms. A tiny face almost hidden between folds of pink flannel, fingers just so poking out next to her chin, her eyes closed.  
She looked like a doll, fragile and precious, and back then, five years old, Todd had first felt the overwhelming need to protect another human being.

It never left him, not for a second, ever since that moment, and he feels it now still, although Amanda is miles and miles away. She’s with the Rowdy Three, happier than she has been ever since the attacks started, and Todd is glad for her, he really is, and yet is jealous still, because there is someone else who protects his little sister now.

“Todd, do you think we could stop for a moment?”, Dirk asks all of a sudden, pulls Todd back to the unwinding roads of Arizona with a happy, melodious voice and a smile.  
“Yeah, sure”, he answers, still half distracted, and Dirk’s smile widens until it almost overtakes his face. “Why? Need something to drink?”  
“No”, Dirk answers, and sounds almost a tiny little bit flustered. “Nothing like that. I just would very much like to kiss you right now.”  
And with a beat of a heart, a surprised, but flattered nod, he lets the car slow down and realises almost distractedly, his lips already tingling in anticipation, that he has someone else to protect now, too.

 

They kiss on the side of the road, dust covering Todd’s shoes within a few seconds, Dirk’s lips dry and soft against his, and it’s like a touch is enough, because with Dirk hooking a finger through Todd’s belt loop to pull him closer, he can’t think of anything else anymore.

 

For lunch, they stop at a dingy looking diner in an impossibly tiny town; Todd sends Amanda the second picture of the day: Dirk dipping one of Todd’s fries into his own chocolate milkshake.  
His cheeks are pink and there is a smudge of whipped cream in the corner of his mouth, and Todd saves the photo to his phone as well.  
“You know, Todd”, Dirk says, just as he puts his phone away, and for some reason it’s now that Todd realises how much he likes it when Dirk uses his name. “I like it here. America, I mean. I think I could get used to it. Permanently, I mean.”  
“What do you mean? Permanently?”

“Just what I said”, Dirk replies, dips another fry into his milkshake, munches it happily. “Permanently. For, well. The rest of my life might be a little hasty, and I do want to see England again, but for the next few years, at least.”  
It feels a little bit like a slap, a punch, because this is nothing Todd ever thought he would have to worry about, Dirk going back home and leaving him alone.  
“Wasn’t that – I thought that was clear. Wasn’t it?”, he asks, because he can’t say anything else, watches Dirk shake his head slowly.  
“Of course not. I wasn’t planning on leaving any time soon, definitely not, but sometimes the universe doesn’t ask. It just pulls and pushes until I give in and follow. It’s how I got here in the first place.”

Dirk doesn’t yet seem to have noticed what is happening in front of him, Todd’s heart seizing up as if it was preparing to break. It might be, and it might need the exercise, just in case Dirk ever does leave and Todd cannot come with him.  
“But you don’t want to leave”, Todd forces out, because he has to make sure of that; even if the universe should somehow pull them apart, he has to know that Dirk doesn’t want it to. “Do you?”

There is a moment in which Dirk doesn’t speak although he could, just looks at him like he can’t follow Todd’s train of thought and finds it impossibly confusing, and although it can’t be more than a few seconds, it feels like an eternity Todd spends not knowing, fearing, hoping desperately.  
“Of course not”, Dirk finally says incredulously, as if it’s a question that hardly deserves a reply at all, because the answer should be clear. Todd hopes it is. “Why should I? I’ve got the agency here, I’ve got Farah and Amanda, and – it pains to admit it, but so be it – I might somehow have the tiniest sliver of the Rowdy Three. Perhaps. Possibly. And I have _you_ , of course. There is no reason why I should want to leave and every reason to stay. So no, I don’t want to go back to England. Not at all.”

It’s a few words, nothing more, which still sound a little bit like Dirk is questioning Todd’s sanity, but they work like a charm, the weight resting on Todd’s poor, loving heart vanishing and letting it soar once more.  
“That’s good”, he responds, because it is and because he doesn’t want to say all the rest he’s thinking, and yet can feel his cheeks heating up, a relieved smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Like, really good. I’m glad you don’t plan on, you know. Leaving. America, and… well. Me.”

Perhaps he has said too much after all, or at least more than he wanted to, because Dirk doesn’t look as confused anymore, instead his eyes soften, the hand that started reaching out to grab another fry, returns to the table.  
“I wouldn’t”, he says and even his voice sounds tender, sweet, like it is cotton candy melting on his tongue. “There is no where I’d rather be than wherever you are.”

It’s not an _I love you_ , but it’s so close it hardly makes a difference, and suddenly Todd can’t hear anything but blood pounding in his ears, Dirk’s words seemingly echoing in his mind, can’t see anything but the other’s face, doused in sunlight.

“I like having you here, too”, Todd replies instead of what he should say, the words getting stuck in his throat, but Dirk doesn’t seem to mind it much, just smiles, ducks his head. “And if you had to leave – if the universe made you, I mean, with all the pushing and pulling, I’d come with you. To England, or Africa, or fucking ancient Egypt, whatever. It wouldn’t matter.”  
To him, it still feels like it isn’t enough, not the right words, and yet, while he is still searching for others, more, Dirk’s expression changes. His eyes widen, his mouth goes slack as his cheeks flush; he looks a little like Amanda used to when she was still a girl, coming down from her room on Christmas morning, little brown eyes hardly able to take everything in.  
And Todd realises that maybe, he has just said _I love you_ , too.

 

They reach the Grand Canyon when it’s late afternoon, because Todd got lost somewhere along the way, possibly because Dirk has taken his rightful seat at his side again, and kept his hand on Todd’s thigh almost the whole drive, the tips of his fingers brushing over jeans-clad and yet still sensitive skin.  
But they manage, even if Todd feels far too hot by the time he stops the car, Dirk squeezing his thigh lightly before he pulls his hand away. Maybe they should find a hotel for the night later after all.

He gives the other a quick glance before he gets out of the car, grabs his new guitar from the backseat on second thought. It has been too long since he played, and although he doesn’t quite know what kind of music would befit the scenery and the strange, wonderful situation they are in, Todd still thinks he’ll find something.  
The weight of the instrument in his hand is still comforting in a way only music has ever been, and Todd grips it tightly when he straightens again, closes the door and waits for Dirk to do the same so he can lock it. There are too many people around, a mother dragging a crying child after her, an Asian couple taking pictures, a man with a terrible sunburn on his neck and his equally sunburnt family, and although they have as much of a right to be here as the two of them, Todd wants to tell them all to disappear.  
The evening should belong to them and only them.

Todd is about to ask Dirk if he wants to try and find a quiet little place somewhere along the canyon, off the most visited trails, when he tilts the guitar in his hand just right and the sun makes the scratched surface gleam; scribbles in black and dark blue are almost entirely covering the lower half of it. Scribbles that weren’t there before.  
He tilts it further, eyes tracing curves and lines, little dots in between, and it’s only when he hears Dirk’s feet shuffling across the sandy ground that he realises the other is standing next to him.

“Did you draw this?”, Todd asks, makes out a crossbow drawn in black on brown wood, a thin wire connecting its tip with the edge of the instrument.  
“Yes”, Dirk admits, and sounds embarrassed, maybe a little bit nervous; when Todd looks up at him, he’s rubbing the back of his neck with a long-fingered hand. “I hope you don’t mind it – it felt like a good idea at the time. Make it a bit more personal, add a little of me – of us – to it. We can get a new one if you don’t like it, though, I wouldn’t mind…”  
His voice trails off, and Todd takes a moment to look back down onto the guitar, the swirls and shapes, the bottle of pills on one side, the crudely drawn giraffe and gorilla mask, a gun and a lightbulb and in the middle, a kitten with too-large eyes and a shark’s tail and backfin. The first of their cases drawn with sharpie in the backseat of a car, scattered symbols that tell a story, when one knows which one to look for.  
It’s not great art, even far from it, and Todd cannot be quite sure, but he thinks that it might just be the most beautiful thing he has ever owned.

“Are you kidding?”, he asks, and only realises a second too late that his voice is far more quiet than it should be, almost breathless. “No way. It’s great. I love it. Thanks, Dirk. It’s amazing.”  
Dirk’s smile, when he looks up again, is so bright it puts the sun to shame.

 

They walk along the rim of the canyon, Todd with his guitar in his hand, Dirk carrying the duffle bag with snacks, and occasionally stopping to look at the scenery around them with an almost childish fascination. Although Todd has only seen the canyon once, he spends more time watching Dirk than anything around them.

The further they get from the parking lot, the less people are around, and at some point, Todd reaches out to take Dirk’s hand, holds it tightly, feels the warmth of skin against his, and suddenly decides that this is far enough. Dirk is looking over the vast chasm of the canyon, the red of the rocks seemingly reflected in the colour of his hair, and Todd tugs on his hand until the other turns around.

“Is this fine for you? Staying here?”, he asks and waits until Dirk nods to let go of the other’s hand and sit down. He misses the warmth of it, he does, the point of contact and the knowledge that there is a living, beating, loving heart pumping blood beneath the skin pressed against his, but the guitar is calling to him, and the light is just right to set the canyon on fire.  
“Are you going to play something?”, Dirk asks and sits down as well, long legs gracefully folding and reminding Todd for a second of how they felt wrapped around him.  
“Yeah, I think so. Any requests?”

He says it lightly, jokingly, but Dirk tilts his head, seems to consider all possibly options.  
“Something nice. Something, you know. Important.”  
It’s the vaguest of requests and it might be only because he has spent so much time with Dirk that Todd knows what the other means, but he does. The knowledge doesn’t make it any easier to choose, though, a thousand melodies dancing through his mind, some bold and brash, some tender and sweet, neither of them quiet the right one.

All the Mexican Funeral songs he wrote come and pass, the Velvet Underground’s _I’ll Be Your Mirror_ does too, he flirts with Bruce Springsteen’s _Human Touch_ and Nick Cave’s _Into My Arms_ , just briefly considers The Smith’s _Hand In Glove_ and R.E.M.’s _At My Most Beautiful_ , and then, all of a sudden, there it is, hidden in a memory he hardly ever allows himself to think about.

A room in a hospital, white and grey, the scent of disinfectant in the air as his aunt Esther suffered from one pararibulitis attack after another, making her scream and cry and beg for mercy. And Todd on a plastic chair next to her, clutching at his guitar and playing the same song over and over, because the melody calmed her down, even made her smile when the illness gave her a few moments to breathe in between.

His fingers do not find the chord as easily anymore as they used to, but he manages, lets the first of many notes drift through the warm air.  
“ _I’ve got you under my skin_ ”, he sings, feels himself flush. It’s embarrassment, but also the knowledge that he means it, that every and all of the words that will follow are true. “ _I’ve got you deep in the heart of me… so deep in my heart that you’re really a part of me-“_

Dirk sits and listens, behind him the sun is setting, and Todd lays his heart in the other’s hands and knows that Dirk will keep it safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this is a bit late - uni is kicking my arse at the moment, which is also the reason why the next chapter is most likely also going to take a bit longer.  
> Also thanks to lizzisgeek on Tumblr for the translation into Russian! ♥♥♥
> 
> And a tiny little shout-out to Lavellington, in form of a reference, because I Will Roam If You Say Roam has a very special place in my heart.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh God, it feels good to be back ♥  
> Sorry for making you wait this long for the next chapter, I just hope it doesn't disappoint!

 

 

The sun sets and makes the canyon, the sky, burn orange, pink and golden. Occasionally, people pass them, but they are easy to ignore when music is flowing freely from Todd’s fingers now, soft melancholic tunes intertwining with happier ones, old ones with new songs.   
There are breaks in between when the scenery in front of them gets to beautiful, too breath-taking to ignore, and Todd likes them almost as much as he does the music.

Dirk listens the entire time, smiles when he recognises a melody, and Todd hopes that the other realises that all the songs are chosen with him in mind.

 

By the time they walk back, the stars have overthrown the sun’s reign over the sky, shining, twinkling dots scattered across dark velvet. They look different than they did in Death Valley, different than in Vegas, where Todd almost thought them drowning between artificial suns and moons, but beautiful still.   
One of Todd’s hands is wrapped around the neck of his guitar, the other holding Dirk’s, who is oddly quiet, only sharing the occasional quip, short anecdote. His eyes still stray over to Todd’s face more often than not, and it’s only when they reach the car that Todd realises why.

There is no one else around, and he has just unlocked the car so he can return his new guitar to the backseat when Dirk pulls on the fingers still laced with the other’s, makes him turn around until they are face to face.   
In Dirk’s eyes, there is an intensity Todd is not expecting, a fierce kind of fire burning behind dark pupils, and it draws him in just like Dirk’s hands do, one finding its place on Todd’s cheek, the other staying right where it is, long fingers laced with Todd’s own.

The guitar is still in his other hand, but Todd forgets about it, because Dirk takes a step forward, another, another, until Todd cannot do anything but move backwards, trapping himself between the cool metal of the car and Dirk’s body. At no time did Todd ever have a chance to desensitise himself to Dirk looking at him like this, simmering, white-hot, still tender lust making his eyes glow, and so it hits him with full force, draining the air from his lungs.

He might have keeled over, his knees might have buckled, if Dirk would have given him just a few moments longer, but the other steps closer still, until they are pressed against each other, Dirk’s body all harsh lines and soft touches as he brings their lips together in a kiss.   
It isn’t like any kiss they shared this evening, all of them sweet and soft, while this is passionate, feels like Dirk is trying to set him on fire with every slide of his lips, every lick of his tongue. And it is working, because Todd feels like he’s too large for his skin, the spots where Dirk is touching him burning, tingling.

Although they are so close already, Todd presses closer still, arches his back off the metal of the car, opens his mouth to let Dirk in, who takes the opportunity, licks and nips and drives Todd insane. When he reaches for the handle of the car that leads to the cramped, cluttered backseat, yanks it open and pulls Dirk inside with him, it really is the only thing he could possibly do.

 

They don’t find a motel for the night, although they fall apart together and only break away from each other after what feels like hours, sweaty and flushed and happy.   
It’s far too little space for the two of them, but Todd is too tired, too boneless to care, only pulls one of the blankets they still have from their trip to Death Valley up around their shoulders, enjoys the feeling of their legs tangling together, even if it means that Dirk’s sharp hipbone is digging into his side.   
The other’s head rolls onto Todd’s shoulder, a pleasant, comforting weight, and Todd smiles and finds Dirk’s hand under the blanket and intertwines their fingers.

“And, do you like it? The canyon?”, Todd asks, although sleep is tugging on his eyelids, and Dirk hums softly at the back of his throat, nuzzles closer.   
“Lots”, he mutters, brushes a kiss against Todd’s neck, a butterfly’s touch that leaves a burning mark. “But really, it’s not the canyon I like best. I liked you playing a lot. And singing.”  
“I noticed that.”

Todd cannot help but tease a little, a chuckle escaping him; when he looks over at Dirk with tired eyes, there is a faint flush staining his cheeks.   
“I didn’t hear you complaining”, Dirk answers, pouting, and Todd can’t help but grin, and kiss his own smile onto Dirk’s lips.   
“I never would.”

 

The next morning, they find a truck stop diner and first have a shower, then breakfast, hold hands under the table while Dirk sips a cup of what he calls the worst tea in existence and Todd gulps down his third cup of coffee. It’s as perfect a morning as it could be.

 

“Where do you want to go next?”, Dirk asks when they get back to the car, looking at Todd like he’d follow him to the end of the world, if Todd could find a compelling argument for it.   
For a moment, Todd contemplates, because there are still a hundred thousand places he would like to see, and yet nothing seems to fit, because the only thing he wants to look at is right on font of him.   
“I don’t know”, he answers in the end, enjoys the sun warming his back for a moment. “I don’t care. Take me anywhere, Dirk, let’s follow the universe, alright?”

 

Neither of them is looking where they are going, they just go, get into the car and Dirk starts driving, takes a left, then a right, a right again, and Todd grabs his hand somewhere in between, wonders for the first time in days how he ever managed to get this used to Dirk’s driving. And yet he did: his heart doesn’t stop anymore when Dirk takes a particularly harsh turn, only when they honestly, literally almost die.  
“I never expected this”, he tells Dirk without meaning to, the words just spill from his lips, fall and tumble and soar, make Dirk look over at him with soft, blue eyes. He looks a little bit confused, and Todd cannot blame him; he is, too. “I don’t mean the trip – no, wait, I mean that too, but what I really mean is… this. That I’d feel like this around anyone. Comfortable, I guess, and strangely safe, considering that we literally almost died a few minutes ago. So yeah. Thank you for that.”

It might not be the most romantic of confessions, might not even be a confession at all, but it makes Dirk smile and leaves Todd happier, and he means it, he does.

“I didn’t expect it either”, Dirk says, and looks back to the road, just so manages to prevent them from crashing against a road sign. “Not when I came here, not even when I met me in that hotel corridor and he told me you’d be my best friend. I mean, I hoped for it, naturally, or at least something close to this, but I never would have dared to expect it. And really, I didn’t… how to say this, I didn’t know what I hoped for. I had this hazy sort of concept of how a friendship could work, but nothing more. And I am glad for it, somehow.”  
Dirk pauses, everything around them silent, except for the rumbling of the engine, and Todd imagines he can feel Dirk’s heartbeat through the other’s skin.

“I like that this is the first time. That you’re the first friend I ever had, that you’re the first I… well. I had this with. It makes it feel like all this waiting and hoping was worth it, because you’re you and I wouldn’t want anyone else.”  
Their eyes meet for a split-second, and Dirk looks radiant and sincere, and it’s an _I love you_ as well, another one, which makes Todd’s heart swell and his mind wonder how many of them he might have missed before this trip.

“You’re not my first anything”, Todd says, and knows that it could sound cold, cruel, hopes that it doesn’t. “But I really, really wish you were.”

 

They stop nowhere at all, a town that is hardly anything but a smudge of houses across the landscape, has nothing to offer but a diner, a small supermarket and an incredibly tiny motel, where they rent a room from a disgruntled looking lady, who hardly puts down her cigarette long enough to hand them their keys.   
The room looks like it too, shabby and old-fashioned and yet like it used to be lovely a few decades ago, and Dirk looks completely out of place with his sunny smile and the worn duffle bag in his hand.

“Isn’t this wonderful?”, Dirk asks and Todd would think he’s being sarcastic if he didn’t know the other man so well by now.  
“Not… really”, he still replies, knowing that the words lack their bite, like they do so often these days. The guitar is a comforting weight in his hand and he sets it down carefully, eyes lingering on the messy drawings for a few more seconds. “It’s a bit shit, to be honest. But it has a bed and I really hope that there is a bathroom hidden behind that door, so I’m fine, I guess.”  
“A bit more enthusiasm, Todd! We are on the road, free as birds, together, what more could we want?”

If he puts it like this, of course, it is hard to argue with Dirk, so Todd doesn’t even try, just sighs and walks over, gets onto his tip-toes and presses their lips together, a kiss that is just barely that. Dirk is still smiling and it’s infectious. When Todd pulls back, he’s smiling too.

 

They could go out again, look at whatever else the dusty streets and run down houses around have to offer, maybe even try their hand at grocery shopping, but instead, they stay right where they are. Todd fires off a text to Amanda, asking how she has been, while Dirk calls Farah.   
She’s in Belize, visiting Lydia, and Todd presses close and closer until he can hear her talk, too. Her voice sounds tinny through the speaker, yet still familiar, and Todd relishes in the knowledge that he has her too, somehow, even while the heat of Dirk’s skin against his makes it hard to concentrate.

At one point, Todd answers a question she asks, because he’s not thinking, dizzy with their closeness, and Farah stops, even if just for a moment; Todd can listen to the cogs in her head turning, knows that he has given them away, and yet doesn’t care the slightest. There is a hitch in her breath and she has figured it out, knows what has changed between them, and it’s a strange thing, acceptance given without being asked for.   
It makes it feel more official, some kind of benediction, and Dirk shifts, completely oblivious. Todd brushes a kiss to his cheek, soft and sweet, which makes Dirk stumble over the next few words.

“A-Anyway”, Dirk says, and Todd cannot help but kiss the line of his jaw, the soft skin just beneath it, nip at the other’s pulse point. “I hope you have fun, Farah, and tell Lydia that we said hello, and we wish her a very nice, human time in Belize. If you need anything at all, from me or from – from Todd, just say a word. Alright, I’ve got to run now, there’s – something has come up. Very important. Yes. Goodbye!”  
The longer he speaks, the faster the words flow from Dirk’s lips, brushing up against each other until they get jumbled together, almost impossible to understand. If Farah does get it, Todd never finds out, because his lips are still brushing across Dirk’s skin, tasting a hint of sweat, and Dirk disconnects the call, puts aside the phone without looking.

One long-fingered hand finds its way into Todd’s short hair, fingernails scratching across his scalp, making him sigh softly. He lets his lips part, sucks a kiss to Dirk’s jaw, then another to the corner of his lips, before he kisses him properly.   
It takes a moment until Dirk responds, bites at Todd’s bottom lip, and there is a comfortable familiarity to the sensation, to the taste of Dirk’s lips. He slides onto Dirk’s lap, uses one of his hands to start undoing the buttons of Dirk’s shirt.   
By now, he’s used to the motions, his fingers almost working on their own volition, and Todd can feel every flick of Dirk’s tongue heating up the blood flowing through his veins further.

His fingertips brush across bare skin, and Dirk makes a soft, almost desperate sound against his lips, and Todd lets himself fall into this head-first, with everything he has, kisses Dirk with all the passion he harbours in his chest and knows that he will lose himself in the other within moments.

He does.

 

It’s a few hours later and they have abandoned the blankets they could have wrapped around themselves, lie together on the bed, legs tangled and fingers intertwined. Todd’s head is nestled in the crook of Dirk’s neck, feathery strands of auburn hair tickling his skin, and Dirk’s pulse beating sweetly against his cheek.   
“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me”, Dirk whispers like he is telling a secret, and Todd knows him well enough to know that he’s close to falling asleep. It should be the most beautiful thing to hear, because Dirk is happy and sated and comfortable, and yet Todd can only think about how wrong this is.

He loves Dirk, he does, cherishes every look the other sends him, every smile and every little laugh, feels his own self ignite when he is close to Dirk, who seems to shine so brightly in almost every sense of the word. And it’s because of that why Dirk’s words hurt, make it hard to breathe, because Todd knows Dirk, but he knows himself even better.   
There was a time when he was an even worse person, but he’s still a frayed, broken, fractured mess of a man, held together by his love for Amanda, for Dirk, the knowledge that he can’t disappoint them again, and the thought that he could possibly be the best aspect of anyone’s life, let alone Dirk’s, is painful.

Because Dirk deserves anything at all, deserves things Todd can give and some he won’t ever be able to; deserves sunshine and affection and honesty, not just a good man, but someone better still. Someone who is strong enough to protect and tender enough to heal the wounds still left on the other’s soul, someone as sweet as the milkshakes the other is addicted to and with as vast a capacity for love as Dirk has himself.   
Someone who’d never thought of calling Dirk a monster and never would push him away, someone who’d deserve the boundless adoration Dirk gives Todd so freely. Someone who’s better than Todd in almost every way, because that is what Dirk is, too.

He cannot move, although he wants to, frozen by the shock of sudden realisation, the blood that had flowed freely before stopping and clogging in Todd’s veins, congealing with guilt, resignation, shame. Dirk loves him too, but it’s no love he deserves, just love that has been given, and with a start and a heart that prepares to break, Todd realises that maybe, the good, the right thing would be to let Dirk go.   



	9. Chapter 9

 

 

The night passes, and Todd isn’t sure if it lasts an eternity or just a blink of an eye. Sunlight starts to filter through the thin fabric of the curtains, Dirk mumbles something unintelligible into the space between Todd’s shoulder and the pillow, and Todd feels his heart in his chest, not speeding up, not swelling, just its presence, a living, beating weight.   
It’s a strange thing, because it feels like it doesn’t belong to him anymore, but to the man next to him, to auburn hair and blue eyes, to a sunny smile.

They aren’t touching, so Todd fixes that, turns around and puts his hand above the other’s, feels bony knuckles and warm skin. He’d like to lace their fingers together, because holding hands seems to be a fixture in their relationship, but waking Dirk up would be a crime he doesn’t want to be guilty of. There is enough weighing down his conscience already.   
The sunlight is mellow, softening the lines of Dirk’s face, smudging the fan of his eyelashes into a feathery line, and Todd loves him in so many ways, with such an intensity it takes his breath away, and suddenly, it’s not just the existence of his heart he feels, but who it beats for.

 

It takes an hour or so longer until Dirk wakes, all blinking eyes and sleepy smiles, like the sun rising once again in front of Todd’s eyes. The thought that maybe, just maybe, he will have to allow himself to be left behind.

“Good morning”, Dirk mutters softly, looks at Todd with adoration shining out of blue eyes, and turns his hand around so he can do what Todd wanted to for so long, intertwine their fingers. “You haven’t slept well, have you?”  
“Not particularly, no”, Todd admits, watches Dirk frown, “I’ve been… I don’t know. I couldn’t sleep. Nothing special, really.”  
It’s clear that Dirk doesn’t believe him, but the other doesn’t push it, doesn’t ask again, but just accepts that Todd doesn’t want to talk about it, squeezes his hand.   
“Alright. Then I hope you sleep better tomorrow.”  
He says it with a strange finality, but gives Todd no time to think about it, and kisses him instead.

 

They get in the car and Todd finds that he cannot speak. Dirk is chattering happily next to him, all sunshine and warmth, and Todd thinks he should contribute at least a little bit and yet can’t find the words. So instead, he watches.   
He watches Dirk’s fingers on the steering wheel, the glint of light in his hair, turning it copper, the flutter of his eyelids and the movement of his lips, the shade of his skin. Every aspect of him is familiar to Todd by now, etched into his memory, and yet he cannot stop to look, finds a new kind of beauty in the glow surrounding Dirk, in the love he feels for him.   
There is no need for Dirk to be stunning, breathtakingly beautiful from the outside, when he’s the best, the most magnificent human being Todd thinks he has ever met.

“…which is why I conclude that Eurovision really should be a vital part in our shared life from now on”, Dirk rambles on, and Todd doesn’t hear it, doesn’t hear anything until the other adds, “Are you listening, Todd?”  
It startles him a little, the question, but not enough for Dirk to notice; he could lie and pretend that he knows exactly what it was Dirk was talking about, and yet he doesn’t, just shakes his head and watches a hint of the light die in Dirk’s eyes. A small voice at the back of his head tells him that it’s all he’ll ever do to Dirk. It’s unbearably familiar, even if those last weeks managed to drown out its words with happiness.   
“Well, that is rather unfortunate”, Dirk says a moment too late to sound unaffected entirely; he doesn’t seem angry though, nor upset, just vaguely worried. “But I suppose I can just repeat it, seeing that it is just as important to you as it is to me. Or at least it will be. So let’s see, where to start…”

 

Dirk pulls over, their tires having left a trail of dust along the road, which is still settling when they get out of the car. It’s warm outside, even the wind blowing hardly able to bring any relief, and with the sun burning down on them, Todd feels his heart start to ache. It’s expanding, filling up his entire chest, beating and yet seeming to freeze, because it hurts to look at Dirk. It hurts because Todd knows it would hurt a lot worse if he couldn’t watch the other sleep anymore, because he’s fallen hard and knows that Dirk has too, and because he still isn’t sure what to do.

He knows what the old Todd would do, the one who lied and stole and pretended none of that mattered; he’d go on just like before, he’d take without considering that maybe, he doesn’t deserve it, because it feels good to do so. But that’s not who he is anymore, not who Dirk fell in love with anyway.

The sky above them is clear blue, like the heat has soaked up even the moisture it would take to form clouds, and Todd lets his eyes slip close, turns his face towards the sun and tilts his head back, lets it light up his vision in blood red and pink.   
A car passes them, drowning out the sound of Dirk coming closer; it’s only the hand softly put down on his shoulder which warns Todd before the other starts to speak.   
“I know you said you’re fine before”, Dirk mutters, his breath a gust of air against Todd’s overheated skin. “And I want to believe you, I really do, it’s just… hard to do so, when you’re like this. Quiet. Like something is eating you up from the inside, not like a ghost shark might, but… slower. And I don’t know what to do to help.”

He’s worried, Todd could tell that from listening to his voice alone, no need for words – because that is how attuned he is to Dirk by now, to his moods, his way of thinking, the gentle changes in his voice and the vast ones on his face – and it’s the thing Todd wants least. Upsetting Dirk feels like conjuring up a thunderstorm on purpose when he knows that neither of them will be able to find shelter for miles and miles.

So he lets his head tip back until it hits the familiar curve of Dirk’s shoulder, paints a smile onto his lips and hums softly.   
“Dirk”, he says, tastes the name sweet on his lips, “It’s okay. I’m okay. Just feeling a bit off, but that will pass. I promise.”  
He might be lying, he might not be; it seems impossible to tell, and maybe not only to him. Because Dirk takes a moment, but then lets his hand drift across Todd’s chest, the other one joining and wrapping him into a proper hug, the breath washing over his skin turning into a kiss pressed against his cheek.   
“Alright”, he answers, and it might be that, might not; Dirk might believe him, might not. “If you say so. But if you need anything, I’m here, you know that, right?”

Dirk is solid, warm behind him, smells faintly of lemon and cheap strawberry milkshakes; he’s here, he won’t leave, and suddenly the thought is almost as terrifying as soothing. It makes Todd smile nonetheless, a real, warm smile this time.   
“Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

 

They stay too long out in the sun, until Todd feels dizzy, drunk on light and dust and Dirk’s arms around him; when they get back into the car, it’s him who takes the driver’s seat. It’s nothing they discuss, or have to, and most of Todd relishes in it, because it’s so easy with Dirk, so natural.   
Still, there is one small part which reminds him that, if he left, it might prove impossible to fill the space Dirk has carved for himself in his heart again.

Todd wonders just how much would be left of it without the other anyway.

The car starts easily when he turns the keys, purring in anticipation, and Dirk smiles at him from the other seat; the sun has painted a flush onto his cheeks, and it seems like its light has yet to leave his eyes.   
“Where to?”, Todd asks, because he doesn’t want to decide, neither now nor later, and watches blue eyes twinkle and shine with excitement. If he had a list of the things he loves about Dirk, this would certainly be on it; the endless enthusiasm, the childlike passion the other holds for everything he does, everything _they_ do.   
“Oh Todd! We could go anywhere, it doesn’t matter. And isn’t that the beauty of it? Freedom, Todd, empty roads and sunshine and the whole country stretched out in front of us. Let’s live deep and suck out all the marrow of life! Let’s tear our pleasures with rough strife through the iron gates of life, Todd, and let’s do it together.”

His voice is a familiar melody, almost a song, and Todd can’t help but laugh anyway, put one hand on the steering wheel and the other on top of Dirk’s. The happiness he feels at seeing Dirk happy is still laced with a sadness that makes breathing difficult, but for a moment, right now, it is easier to bear.   
“Yes, okay”, he answers, watches Dirk’s smile bloom into a beam and doesn’t know if he could ever bear to lose this. “But where should we do all that?”  
“I don’t know”, Dirk says, and beams and beams and beams, “I don’t care. Does it matter?”

It doesn’t.

 

They go anywhere, Todd not thinking, just letting intuition take them wherever it wants to, Dirk alternating between rambling and humming, Todd alternating between needing to stay and thinking he has to go. He’d break Dirk’s heart, he knows that, might just shatter it along with his own, but then again, Todd might end up doing that anyway.   
It’s a thought he has become too familiar over the last few hours, one that seems to have ingrained itself into his very core, tainting every smile, every look, and Todd knows that he has gone days and weeks and months without noticing how he felt for Dirk, just ignoring how he was almost swept away by the sheer intensity, and yet feels his control slip now, within a day.   
It’s a kind of poison, spreading through his veins, worse than doubt, because Todd knows all about that; it’s the fear of certainty, that when he looks too closely, he’ll see the answer written out in front of him as clear as day, and that the answer will not be the one he wants to hear. That even when he sees it, he won’t be able to accept it.

Dirk is trying to tell him something about ice cream, or maybe some other kind of dessert, and Todd looks over at him, at blue eyes and pale skin, a face that’s all angles and sharp lines, feels his heart ache with the thought of possible doom. And wonders, if any decision could be right if it meant dimming the light in the other’s eyes.

 

It might be by chance, it might be by intuition, but the next town they stop in is one Todd has been to before. Coles Corner, it’s called, and it takes Todd a few moments too long to remember why the street he is driving along looks vaguely familiar. Years and years have passed, but there was a time, back when Todd was still a teenager, when his dad used to take him fishing once a year, up to Wenatchee National Forest, where they spent a weekend at different lakes and rivers, but always the same little hotel, the same little room, the same little quips and talks and sparks of wisdom shared between them, until Todd had decided that with sixteen, he was too old for this.   
In hindsight, he regrets it, thinks that maybe another year, another two, could have changed something, anything, but it’s too late now, like so many things are.

He takes a right, another right, and doesn’t quite remember where he is going or where he should go; it’s like a faint memory of a dream he once had that guides him, whispers of resemblance coating houses and streets alike.   
“I know this place”, he tells Dirk a little too late and Dirk smiles brightly, even before he has turned around. “My dad used to take me here to go fishing. I don’t think I ever could have found it again on a map, but I remember it now. I used to love it, right until I didn’t anymore.”

“That sounds nice.” Dirk’s voice is light and happy and yet makes Todd remember that the other never had the luxury of shared trips and cold ravioli eaten right out of a can in the car, because the single diner in the town had closed already. “I’ve never fished, which, in all honesty, might be for the best. I don’t know if I could kill anything with my own hands.”  
Todd cannot help but snort, look over at Dirk a little incredulously. “You killed people before. Not just fish, actual people.”  
“Well… yes. But also no. I mean, morally that might be true, but technically, it was the shark-kitten that did it. So I stand by what I said, I don’t know if I could kill anything _with my own hands._ ”

“Are you really trying to argue semantics when it comes to murder?”  
It’s an amusing thought, and one which Dirk doesn’t even try to deny; instead, he looks at Todd a little sheepishly, smiles anyway.   
“Possibly?”  
“You are by far the strangest person I have ever met in my entire life, and I _am_ the including body-snatching cultists and the man who thought that dressing up like a steampunk toaster and going back and forth in time was a good idea.”  
“But you love me anyway”, Dirk chirps, shoots him a blindingly sunny smile, and Todd aches in ways he didn’t know possible. He still can’t deny that it’s true, doesn’t want to either.   
“Yeah, I do.”

 

The old hotel, the one Todd remembers doesn’t exist anymore, but there is another, more modern and less cosy one in its place, which serves them just fine, even if the man behind the reception desk looks at them strangely, when Dirk asks for one room instead of two, insists on it, really. But he still hands them the key, almost returns Dirk’s smile, and for a moment, everything seems right in the world, because the brightness of the other’s curl of lips lights up the room, the world around him.

They make their way up to their room, both holding onto one handle of the duffle bag instead of each other’s hand, and it still feels almost unbearably intimate.   
“You know”, Dirk says as he turns the key, opens the door for both of them, and Todd doesn’t know anything at all, “I feel like it was a good idea to come here. The right one. Not in a universe-changing way, maybe, but still in an important one.”   
His smile turns soft, lopsided, and although they are still standing in the hallway, Dirk presses a kiss to Todd’s lips, one that tastes of love and devotion and the possibility of forever and Todd wants and wants and _wants_.

Maybe Dirk feels it, or maybe Dirk wants it to, because the kiss turns passionate within a few more seconds, hotter and fiercer, like Dirk wants them fused together, two souls in one body instead of two, and somewhere in between stumbling through the door of their room, closing it without looking, and almost stumbling over the duffle bag, Todd realises he doesn’t know if he’s sobbing or moaning anymore.

 

Night sets around them, thick and viscous, like it is trying to drown all life within it, and Todd is watching Dirk watching him. He’s tired in a way he used to be familiar with, the burden on his shoulders making every move an almost impossible feat, the soft exhaustion of the afterglow adding to it and smoothing rough edges to something still overwhelming, but less frightening.   
He reaches out, touches fingertips to Dirk’s red-kissed lips, and feels them curl beneath his touch. What makes it easy to speak all of a sudden, Todd does not know, but there is no time to consider, because the words are pouring from behind his lips, a flood he can’t hold back, no matter the taste it leaves behind on his tongue.

“I don’t know if this is right, Dirk”, he says, and knows his voice sounds rushed, sounds scared. “Not this trip, not this room – I know that’s what you’re thinking about asking – _this_. Us. Whatever we are, I don’t know – not because of me, but because of you. You’ve made me better, you’ve made me _so much better_ , but I’m not sure if that’s enough yet… or if it ever will be. I know myself, I’m – I hurt people. And I know you’ll say that it’s just another easy excuse, but it’s true.”

He takes a deep breath, sees Dirk do the same, and continues before the other has the chance to speak.   
“I don’t want to hurt you, and I know that I could. I love you, but what if I wake up one day and find that I don’t anymore? What if I continue to, and still end up in someone else’s bed, because they were there and you weren’t, and I was drunk and weak and _me_?  I don’t want to put you through that, not when I might have been able to prevent it. You’ve been through _so much_ , and somehow, even if I have no idea how, you’ve come out of it alright, or at least close to it, but even you must have a breaking point. And God, the thought that maybe, just maybe it could be me… it scares me to death.”

The words drip from his lips like poison, half of the thoughts new ones, which he hasn’t had time to consider yet, but knows instinctively are right anyway. It has happened to him before, him cheating on a person he cared for, him waking up one morning and looking at his girlfriend’s face, realising that somewhere between going to sleep and waking up, he had lost all the feelings he had had for her. It adds a layer of fear to the guilt, to the helplessness, because feeling the love inside him fade to indifference sounds like the ultimate kind of torture.

“You don’t deserve something like me”, he breathes out, and it’s the truth; the question is, how they will deal with it. “You deserve someone good, someone stable, someone who is worth your time and your optimism and your smiles and your _love_ , and Dirk, I want that person to be me, I do, but I just don’t know if I am.”  
A shaky exhale; there are unshed tears glistening in Dirk’s eyes and Todd wants to unsee the look on the other’s face and yet knows he will never be able to.   
“And I don’t know what your breaking point is, but I think mine might be knowing I disappointed you again.”

He's met with silence, a longer one than he thought Dirk capable of, and then Dirk sits up, not one tear having fallen, even if his eyes are rimmed with red, his lips trembling when he speaks.   
“Some time back”, he starts, and Todd has not heard something as painful as his voice anymore since Amanda told him she didn’t consider him her brother any longer; it’s fragile, brittle. “You asked me about where I really wanted to go, and I told you about Land’s End. Well, Todd, you’re not the only one who can lie. Get up, I’m going to show you where I wanted to go my entire life.”

 

Although Dirk’s request doesn’t make much sense to Todd’s mind, his aching, loving heart, he heeds it anyway, puts on clean clothes and stuffs the old ones into the duffle bag; whenever he looks up, Dirk is watching him. His eyes are gleaming with an emotion Todd cannot name, not pity, not understanding, not pain, but not too removed from any of them either.   
He hurt Dirk, he knows that, and yet he doesn’t know what to make of the other’s reaction.

They don’t check out, just leave, Dirk getting into the driver’s seat of the car without looking back at Todd, and just like that, they’re on the road again, only that everything easy, light, wonderful about it has disappeared.

 

At some point, Todd must have drifted off, lulled to sleep by the silence between them, the humming of the car and his own splintering heart, because when he wakes up, they are back in Seattle. It takes him a moment to realise, because Dirk’s face is the first thing he sees – blue eyes tired and circled with grey, his lips pale and not swollen with kisses anymore, auburn hair tousled – but then, it’s unmistakeable.   
He knows these street, has known them since he was a little boy, he knows the scent, the sound, the hotel in front of which they are parked.

“What –“, he starts, wants to end the sentence with _are we doing here?_ , because it makes no sense, but Dirk doesn’t let him, stops him with a finger pressed against his lips. It’s the smallest touch, after they spent hours touching earlier this day, and yet it feels like the first one in a decade, makes Todd’s skin sing.   
“You are not allowed to talk”, Dirk tells him and doesn’t take his finger away, looks at him sternly just for good measure. “You’ve had your little monologue and I’ll have mine, and afterwards, you can say something. But until then, not a sound, okay?”  
His voice holds no room for disagreement, so Todd doesn’t even try, just nods. And really, it seems fair, to at least listen to what Dirk has to say.

“Good”, the other says, nods as well, and gets out of the car; Todd, like so very often, follows.

 

Dirk walks through the lobby of the Perriman Grand at a pace that suggests he owns it, takes them up to the 18th floor, and it’s only when the doors of the elevator slide open that Todd really understands where they are. It’s like he can see himself once more, wearing an oversized fur coat, his left eye slowly swelling shut, yelling and feeling so hurt, so betrayed that he couldn’t see that he was hurting, betraying.   
“Why-“, he starts, but Dirk shuts him up with one look, with a hand wrapped around Todd’s wrist, pulling.

“This is where I wanted to go”, Dirk tells him and pulls him further until they are standing at that corner, Todd almost pressed up against the wall like Dirk back then, looking up at the taller man. “Ever since I can remember. Yes, I wanted to go on a road trip, and I wanted to stand at Land’s End and scream my entire life into the ocean and believe it listened, and I wanted to see dolphins and the Taj Mahal and a hundred thousand other things, but I didn’t want to see those things alone. I wanted someone next to me, someone who understood and smiled back at me and laughed at my stupid jokes and didn’t mind the occasional cosmic intervention, no matter how ill-timed.”

He's breathing hard, like the words take up more oxygen than expected to be said, and Todd can relate, because they hit him and force the air out of his lungs as well.   
“I know you think you’re the worst person in the world, Todd, and I know you think I can’t see that, or don’t want to, or am just so scared of being lonely again that it won’t make a difference to me. But I know your faults. I know you lied to Amanda and your parents and your band, I know you scammed Dorian, I know you could have had a life so much better than the one you ended up having, and I know there is no one to blame for that but yourself. I know that you can be selfish, I know that you’re stubborn, that you’re prone to self-sabotaging, that occasionally, you’re daft as hell. That you’re pessimistic and try your best to find the faults in both yourself and others before looking for the good things. I know you pushed me away and called me a monster, and that you can’t say for absolute certain that nothing like that will ever happen again.”

Every word hurts, because it’s true, because Dirk fires them off like other people would a spray of bullets, only that with Dirk, each of them hits its mark. Todd curls in on himself just a little, but doesn’t speak, because he promised not to, and because he deserves it, after all.

“But that’s not all”, Dirk says, and his voice goes softer around the edges. “You are loyal and although you don’t trust easily, when you do, it’s for good, you’re strong when you need to be, you’re witty and clever and you care so much about those few people you let in that, sometimes, I’m afraid it will consume you whole. You’re not just your bad sides, Todd, just like I’m not just my good ones, and I know that, and I don’t mind. I don’t need you to promise me forever. In fact, I don’t even want that, because it would be a lie. You’ll hurt me, I have no doubt about that, and I will hurt you too, because that’s how humans work, and that’s what we both are, in the end, something-that-is-not-psychic abilities or not. But I’d rather have you hurt me later, because of something that matters instead of hurting me now because you think this pain will be preferable to whatever it is to come. If it comes. Because there is no certainty it will, either. We might just work. Even forever.”

Dirk is out of breath, and Todd is stunned, unable to find any words at all, so in the end, he breathes out what he still can; the other’s name.   
“Dirk…”  
“No, Todd! I won’t listen to any _buts_ or _ifs_ or whatever else you’re trying to say. Why does it have to be so difficult? Those last weeks, I was the happiest I have ever been in my entire life, and it was because of you. And not even because you were trying, just because you were there, with me. Maybe there are better people out there than you are – in fact, I am sure there are – but there are better people than me out there as well. And I don’t care about any of them, because I don’t love them. I love you and I know you, and I know you love me too, and I know that if you really want to throw all of this away because you think that maybe, one day, which might not even come, you might be my breaking point, then I can’t stop you, but believe me, I will make it as difficult for you as humanely possible. I’ll stay, and I’ll wait, and if I have to –“

Dirk is mid-sentence and Todd knows that he agreed to let him speak, but something happened, which maybe neither of them expected – Todd believes it, believes every word Dirk says, maybe just because he wants to, maybe because they are true. He’ll figure that out later.   
For now, it’s enough to believe, and to look at Dirk and feel the shadows of guilt and desperation slowly lifting. Because Dirk might not be right about everything, but at least is right about enough for it to matter, and because there is one more thing which Todd hasn’t considered and yet is so important: this is not only his decision to make. It’s theirs.

  
“Okay”, he says, and it’s just two syllables, but two syllables which lift him off the ground, just like their first kiss did, the first time they held hands on the hood of that ridiculous cabriolet. They feel right, and although there is no way to be certain that they are, Todd decides to believe them.

“-then I will wait for however long- wait, what?” Dirk stops, almost trips over the words, his face uncrumpling, the light Todd has missed in his eyes slowly sparking again, not yet making them gleam, but at least glisten weakly.  
“Okay”, Todd repeats, and feels a smile touch his lips, curl them slightly; he will hurt Dirk, and he will beat himself up about it for far too long, and maybe at some point it will be too much, but as long as he gets to see the other look at him like this, with galaxies shining out of blue eyes because of a single word Todd says, Todd thinks it might be worth it. “Okay.”

“ _Okay_ as in _I will stop both this nonsense and sabotaging my relationship with my wonderful boss-slash-best friend-slash-boyfriend_?”, Dirk asks, although he must know the answer already, hopeful and a little bit breathless and perfect in so many, if not in all ways, and Todd loves him desperately.   
“Yes, like that. Exactly like that.”  
“No matter any breaking points?”  
And there it is, a choice, which he can make, and maybe, just maybe, this is how Dirk feels on a regular basis, no guide book, no safety nets, but the faint knowledge what to do next anyway.   
He smiles, and a supernova explodes behind Dirk’s eyes, bright and beautiful; it might just heat him up from the inside, too, for when Todd touches him, takes his hand, it feels like it’s setting him aflame.   
“I think that if you end up breaking me, it will have been worth it.”

 

They end up kissing, their fingers intertwined, until Todd’s back is complaining, his lips tingling with blood. He’d go on for the rest of the night, just because it feels like every kiss makes another layer of doubt disappear, but Dirk pulls away at last with tender, half-lidded eyes and a blush high on his cheeks.   
Somehow, he feels closer to Dirk than before, like another barrier has broken down that separated them; a set of worries which has always been lurking beneath washed away by words, by kisses.

Their hands are still locked, and Dirk squeezes his fingers gently, brushes their lips together in what feels like a soft farewell for now, and Todd aches, loves, feels.   
“We should go”, Dirk mutters, as if he was sharing a secret, and Todd takes half a step forward so he can smell the scent of Dirk’s shampoo.   
“Where to?”   
He expects Dirk to say _anywhere_ , or _where you want to_ or _where the universe wants to take us_ , but he doesn’t. Instead, he leaves another kiss on Todd’s lips, then steps back, even if he doesn’t let go of his hands yet.   
“Home”, Dirk says, “I think we should go home.”

 

At the door, Todd’s fingers detach from Dirk’s, and while the other turns to look at him, he doesn’t comment, doesn’t even slow down. He gets into the car, and Todd watches, can’t turn away.  
It’s still the kind of car Todd used to dream about in school, it’s still the same man, and Todd’s heart still skips a beat, just like it did when this whole trip started, only that now he knows that the cabriolet has nothing to do with it.

He stares for another minute at least, until Dirk rolls down the window and sticks his head out, strands of auburn hair being tousled by the wind immediately.   
“Are you coming?”, he asks, and there is a hint of a smile tugging on his swollen lips. “We have somewhere to be.”

 

It must be late, Todd realises as they drive through the almost empty city, the street lights making the world look peaceful and lonely at the same time. Dirk’s fingers are tapping out a rhythm on the steering wheel, and occasionally, he looks over at Todd, as if trying to make sure he hasn’t disappeared; Todd answers each glance with a smile, another skip of his loving, mending heart.   
“I never would have thought this trip would go like it did”, Todd says and it sounds like a confession, but sounds like the truth as well.   
“Me neither”, Dirk replies, and looks at him, all sunshine although it’s the middle of the night, “But I am glad it did.”

Another smile, a softer one, sweeter one, before Dirk looks back at the street, and Todd’s heart swells, and swells, and swells. He could answer, can even taste the words on his tongue, but the world outside is golden and empty and feels a thousand miles away; they are going home and Todd doesn’t want to speak, not anymore.   
One of Dirk’s hands is still tapping on the steering wheel, but the other one is lying between them, fingertips turned up as if in invitation, and Todd reaches out and slips his fingers in between Dirk’s, intertwines them.   
They feel cool against his skin, familiar, and Todd squeezes to say everything he has and hasn’t got words for; Dirk squeezes back and says the same.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh well, who would have thought that I'd actually manage to wrap this one up?  
> Sorry for the horrendous delay - there was far too much uni, a new job, a little heartbreak and a writer's block going on since the last chapter, which just kind of took up all my time and attention.   
> But anyway, thank you all so much for reading, for the kudos, and especially, of course, for the wonderful, lovely, amazing comments, which made my day each and every time. I loved writing this story and will miss it dearly, so whenever anyone wants to talk a bit about these dorks holding hands, feel free to come to me ♥
> 
> Oh, and as I mentioned on Tumblr already, I might, if I have time and motivation and all that, write another little piece for this, about Dirk and Todd getting married in Las Vegas, because I feel like it would fit too well, so in case you're interested in that, let me know!

**Author's Note:**

> In case you want to say hi, send me a prompt, or tell me something nice, you can find me on Tumblr here:  
> [X](http://www.coloursflyaway.tumblr.com)


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